All Chapters of The Billionaire’s Secret Heirs : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

~Hunter’s Pov~I watch the ridiculous scene unfolding in front of me, arms crossed, patience wearing thin. The kid..Caesar….is sprawled out on the floor like a protestor staging a hunger strike. Celine kneels beside him, her hands shaky as she tries to lift him. He kicks, wriggles free, flops flat on his back again. I sigh. Loudly. "Caesar, get up." My voice is sharp, edged with the frustration I don't have time for. Nothing. No movement. Just two big blue eyes glaring up at me. Familiar blue eyes. Celine is still fumbling, still failing. I don’t know why I hired her. I don't know why I hired any of them. This whole house is a circus, and I seem to be the only one who didn't get the memo. Mrs. Bartley, the head maid, marches over like she's about to solve the problem of the century. "I'm sorry, sir. This won’t happen again," she says, throwing Celine a look that’s sharp enough to cut. I scoff. "This is what I get for hiring her?" Celine's head snaps up. And then, suddenl

~HUNTER’S POV~Self-control. Discipline. Restraint. The three things I built my life on. The things that kept me grounded, kept me sharp, kept me from ever making a mistake. And yet, lately, every time Celine was near, all three seemed to disappear. At first, it was nothing. A glance. A fleeting thought. A moment so brief I could ignore it. But then it became more. It became constant. It became dangerous. I found myself watching her too often. Like when she moved through my office, careful and precise, dark hair falling forward as she bent down to pick something up. Or the way she bit her lip when she concentrated, completely unaware that I was watching. Or how, when she was with Caesar, she softened in a way that made my chest ache in a place I didn’t know could feel anything at all. I told myself it was just passing thoughts. Nothing real. Nothing that mattered. But my pulse begged to differ. And I hated it. Tonight was no different. I sat in the lounge, a glas

~HUNTER’S POV~ I tapped my fingers against the desk, skimming through the estate’s daily operations report, but none of the words were registering. My patience was already razor-thin, and I knew exactly why. Celine.She was getting under my skin. The way she had looked at me last night—steady, unshaken—like she wasn’t afraid of me like she wasn’t intimidated. It was… frustrating. And I didn’t like feeling this way. I needed to remind myself why she was here. To work. That was it. Nothing more. So I made a decision. If she was going to work under my roof, she would do so under my rules—no special treatment, no leniency. That was the only way to handle this. I breathed out sharply and clicked open the security feed on my laptop, scanning the live footage of the main foyer. And there she was. On her knees, scrubbing the floor. Her hair was tied back, but a few strands had escaped, clinging to her forehead. She moved with precision, her shoulders tense, her hands gri

~CELINE’S POV~The kitchen was chaos. Pots clanged. Footsteps pounded against the tile. Orders were barked across the room, sharp and urgent. The air was thick with heat and stress, and everyone scrambling to prepare for Hunter’s guests. I moved quickly, arms full of fresh linens, weaving through the frenzy. My back ached. My legs burned. But stopping wasn’t an option. Hunter had made it clear—tonight had to be perfect.I dropped the linens onto the counter and wiped the sweat from my forehead, barely catching my breath before— "Celine!" I knew that voice. I closed my eyes for a second before turning. Bianca stood with her arms crossed, a smug tilt to her lips. Two other maids hovered behind her, hanging onto her every word like she was the queen of this damn castle. "The dining room floor still looks dirty," she said, inspecting her nails like the floor was my problem and not hers. "Go clean it again." I gritted my teeth. "I already cleaned it." She raised an eyebro

~CELINE'S POV~Hunter's gaze was like ice."Leave."The word sliced through me, cold and final. For a second, I didn't move. Didn't breathe. Charlotte opened her mouth like she wanted to argue, but one look from Hunter had her clamping it shut so fast I almost heard her teeth click. She huffed, crossing her arms like a spoiled child. I curled my fingers into the fabric of my uniform, grounding myself. A part of me wanted to fight back, to demand some sort of dignity. But what was the point? Without another word, I turned and walked away. I kept my back straight. My shoulders squared. Only when I reached the storage room did I finally let myself feel it.The weight of the night crashed over me, pressing me down until my knees buckled. I locked the door, slid to the floor, and buried my face in my hands as the tears came. Silent at first. Then in waves. The humiliation. The exhaustion. The constant battle of existing in a place that wanted nothing more than to spit me ou