All Chapters of His Heir, Her Secret: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

IslaI spent the next few days caught in a whirlwind of emotions, torn between wanting to keep Lucien at arm’s length and feeling an undeniable pull towards him. It wasn’t just his words that got to me; it was the way he behaved around Leo. The way he cared for him, played with him, and showed up—despite the past. It all felt so… genuine. But I couldn’t shake the doubt that lingered in the back of my mind.Lucien had never been the kind of person who stuck around. I knew that. I had seen firsthand how easy it was for him to walk away when things got difficult. And now, after all this time, was he really different? Or was this just another game? A way for him to fix what he had broken, only to walk away again once he got what he wanted?The thought gnawed at me every night as I lay awake, staring at the ceiling. Leo would be fine. He had me. I was everything he needed. But Lucien? He was a wildcard. And I couldn’t help but wonder what kind of impact he’d have on Leo’s life if I let him

LucienI wasn’t expecting her to say yes.Not after the way I left things years ago—not after the silence, the heartbreak, the pieces I didn’t even try to pick up. So when Isla texted me that afternoon with nothing more than a time and an address, I stared at the screen for nearly five minutes, trying to convince myself it wasn’t a mistake.But it wasn’t.She let me come back.And this time, I wasn’t going to waste it.I picked up Leo from school. That might sound simple, ordinary, even. But for me, it was seismic. I’d closed billion-dollar deals and spoken at global summits with less anxiety than I had standing outside that red-brick elementary school in Brooklyn, watching a sea of tiny humans pour out of the doors like an overexcited tidal wave.I scanned for him nervously, palms sweating. Then I saw him—Leo, wearing a green hoodie with a stegosaurus on the front, his backpack bouncing as he ran toward me.He stopped short about five feet away. “You came,” he said, his voice careful

LucienThere are moments in life that split you in two.Before Isla told me about Leo, I was a man with regrets but no anchor. I carried guilt like a stone in my pocket, something I could keep hidden as long as I didn’t look down. But now? Now the guilt had a face. A name. A laugh that sounded like mine when he got excited.Leo.My son.I hadn’t known what to do with that truth the first time I saw him. It hit me like a fist to the chest, followed by a freefall of everything I’d missed. The milestones, the nights he’d cried himself to sleep, the tiny victories, the scraped knees, the birthdays.And Isla—she’d done it all alone.I sat in the back of my car after leaving the café, the city lights casting flickers across the windshield, and I didn’t move. My driver waited, silent, as I replayed every word she’d said.“This can’t be temporary. If you walk into his life, you’re staying.”She was right to say it. She was right to demand it.I had walked away once. That alone should’ve disqu

LucienShe said yes.It wasn’t a grand declaration. Just two words on a screen—One dinner. But they landed like a shot of adrenaline straight to my chest.I’d been prepared for more distance, more cold stares, more guarded silences. But Isla, ever pragmatic, always led with what mattered. And she was giving me a chance—one dinner, one conversation. I wasn’t going to waste it.I’d reserved a private table at Vesper, a quiet place tucked behind ivy-covered walls in Tribeca. Not flashy. Not over-the-top. Just… thoughtful. I remembered her favorite wine. I remembered she hated loud restaurants and long menus. I remembered everything.Because forgetting Isla had never been the problem.I arrived early. Nerves weren’t a thing I was used to. I’d closed multimillion-dollar deals in less time than it took to choose a tie for tonight. But this wasn’t about control or confidence.This was about the woman I’d once left behind—and the son she’d raised without me.When she walked in, I forgot how t

LucienIt was after midnight, and the apartment was finally still.Leo had fallen asleep on the couch halfway through his “flying shark battle” story. Isla had carried him into the guest room without saying much, and I’d taken my time cleaning up the living room, more for the distraction than necessity. I wasn’t used to this kind of quiet—the kind filled with traces of laughter and warmth rather than the sterile silence of solitude.I stood by the window, the city glittering beneath me like a sea of fractured stars.Isla had said she wanted this too.She’d said it—not in passing, not flippantly—but with intent. As if she meant every syllable. And I hadn’t kissed her.God knows I’d wanted to. But I didn’t want to reduce that moment to something selfish. I wanted to let it breathe, to let her trust the space we were building. That was new for me. And terrifying.Because patience had never been my strong suit.Especially not with her.I heard the soft click of the guest room door and tur