Legacy 43_The Billionaire’s Secret Heirs

-CELINE’S POV-

 The vacuum hums low in the hallway while the smell of lemon polish trails behind me.

 Hunter’s mother was gone. Thank God.

 The house feels less like a battlefield this morning and more like an overdecorated museum.

 Except the head maid is back to barking orders like she owns the ce, and I’m starting to think she believes she does.

 I don’t even bother correcting her anymore when she mispronounces my name. It’s not worth the breath.

 I’m dusting the edge of the grand piano when Ana appears in the doorway. She’s got that smirk again–the one she only pulls out when something’s about to go sideways.

 “There’s someone outside asking for you,” she says, voices all fake–sweet. “Pretty little thing. Looks just like you.”

 My stomach drops.

 No.

 No, no, no. I wipe my hands on the apron and follow her down the hall, my heart already pounding before leven make it to the foyer.

 She’s there.

 Jesse.

 Leaning against the column like she belongs here, her hair curled like she spent hours on it, her smile bright enough to blind anyone who doesn’t know better.

 But I do. I know that smile.

 It’s the same one she used when she told me to “suck it up” after Mom kicked me out. The same one she wore while dancing at prom, knowing I was home alone with a newborn.

 “Celine!” she sings, arms outstretched like we’re the best of friends.

 I don’t hug her. But she doesn’t seem to care.

 “I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d stop by,” she says, stepping inside without being invited. “This ce is stunning. I mean..seriously, Wow. This is where you work?”

 Her eyes are already scanning the marble floors, the expensive chandeliers, the walls that hold secrets and money like they’re alike.

 “I don’t have long,” I say, trying to keep my voice calm. “What do you need?”

 Jesse’s smile falters, just slightly. We find a quiet corner off the hallway. She waits until we’re out of view before her voice drops.

 “I need some money,” she whispers, eyes darting toward the staircase. “Just a loan. A little one.

 12:02. Thu, 31 Jul 

 Iblink.

 “You showed up to my job… for money?”

 She sighs, frustrated. “it’s not a big deal, okay? I just…things got tight. You know how it is.”

 I step back.

 “No.”

 Her face hardens the sweetness cracking. “Don’t forget, you owe me.” Her hand mps around my wrist, nails pressing just enough to make a point.

 I remember,

 I remember begging her to help when I went intobor early. How she flirted with the doctor, distracted him while I begged them to let me stay even though I couldn’t afford it.

 How she gloated for weeks like she was a hero, while I held my newborn in a cold apartment alone.

 “That was three years ago,” I say, my voice shaking, “You helped me once, That doesn’t mean I owe you forever.”

 “You wouldn’t have made it without me,” she hisses. “You think you’re better now? Working in a rich guy’s mansion? Don’t let the paycheck fool you, Celine. You’re still the girl with the bastard baby.”

 Before I can respond…before I can even breathe…Hunter’s voice slices through the air.

 “What’s going on here?” I whip around.

 He’s standing just a few feet away. Shirt sleeves rolled up, expression like thunder. His eyes flick to Jesse, then to where her fingers still dig into my wrist.

 Jesse lets go immediately and switches to a smile that would win an Oscar. “Oh! Nothing. Just catching th my dear sister, it’s been so long.”

 Hunter doesn’t move. Doesn’t blink. His eyes stay on her. Unimpressed.

 Unfooled.

 Jesse nces between us and doubles down. “I just needed a little help. You know, family stuff. It’s not a big deal” 

 “She said no,” Hunter says, his voice low and razor–sharp. “I suggest you leave.” The room stills

 Jesse’s smile wavers. “And who are you to to

 tell me what to do?”

 “Someone who doesn’t tolerate people who manipte others to get what they want.”

 Boom. That’s the moment Jesse realizes he’s not a man she can charm. She res. Her face twists into something ugly and normal The mask slips.

 But he doesn’t flinch.

 And I don’t either. <fn070d> Chapters first released on Find_Novel(.</fn070d>

 -2/5

 She scoffs. “You’re making a mistake siding with her.” Then she storms out, heels clicking like gunshots on the marble.

 Silence follows. Heavy and stretching.

 I don’t know how to fit.

 I stare at the floor, heart pounding in my throat, my breath shaky. I don’t even realize I’m crying until I feel the first tear slide down my check,

 Hunter watches me for a beat too long. Then, finally, he speaks.

 “It wouldn’t kill you to stand up for yourself, you know.”

 It’s not cruel. It’s not macking. It’s… honest. And it breaks something open inside me.

 Because he’s right. And because no one’s ever stood in front of me instead of behind me. No one’s ever told me I deserve to fight

 back

 The tears fall faster now. I hate that he’s seeing them. Hate how naked I feel under the weight of his eyes.

 But he doesn’t look away. And for the first time in years… neither do I.

 I should be foldingundry. I should be focusing on dusting the damn baseboards. I should be doing anything other than what I’m doing right now.

 Which is… watching him.

 Hunter stands at the far end of the room, leaning over a long mahogany table with a rolled–out blueprint stretched across it.

 Vincent and the new guy Fabian hover nearby, pointing, adjusting, and mumbling things I don’t understand.

 Architect things. Money things. Things that don’t belong in the same world I live in.

 Hunter’s dressed down today. No suit. Just dark jeans and a white button–down that he rolled up to the elbows like he was hallway between boss and boy–next–door.

 His jaw is dusted with stubble and he keeps running his hand through his hair like it’s some involuntary tic he’s not aware of

 He looks… normal.

 Approachable, Dangerously human.

 My hands are still damp from the dishwater as I grip theundry basket, pretending to fluff the already–fluffed throw pillows on the couch.

 I don’t even realize I’m staring until his eyes flick up..just for a second…and catch mine.

 I look away so fast I nearly drop the basket.

 Vincent’sughter bounces through the house like it owns the ce. I nce up just in time to see him winking at Ana, who lets out agiggle that’s borderline embarrassing

 TU TH

 A couple of the newer maids are fawning over him too, pretending they have something important to clean near the parlor.

 He feeds off it. Vincent always does.

 I disappear around the corner, into the living room where the air feels less charged and Caroline is perched on the cream loveseat like she’s never aged a day.

 Her teacup is delicately bnced between two fingers.

 Caesar sits at her feet, legs crossed, tongue peeking from the side of his mouth as he concentrates on drawing something in his

 notebook.

 I hover near the edge of the room, unsure if I’m interrupting. “He’s not bothering you, is he?”

 Caroline doesn’t even look up. “Not at all. He’s goodpany.”

 Caesar holds up his sketch. “It’s a dragon, but nice.”

 I smile, my heart softening “He means “knight, I exin, taking a step closer.

 Caroline chuckles. “I figured. But I wouldn’t mind a nice dragon, either. So long as it behaves.”

 She sips her tea. Her eyes, always quietly sharp, flick to me like she’s been waiting to say something.

 “You know,” she starts, casually. “Hunter doesn’t look at women the way he looks at you.”

 Iugh. Too loud. Too forced. “He barely looks at me at all,”

 Caroline raises one perfectly shaped brow. “Oh, honey. That man is burning for you, and he doesn’t even know how to handle it.”

 I open my mouth, then close it.

 I want to argue. Say she’s wrong. Say that if Hunter was burning for me, I’d feel it.

 That I wouldn’t be over here wondering if the way he spoke to Jesse, if the way he defended me, was just a moment of kindness, not something deeper.

 But I can’t.

 Because deep down… I did feel it.

 The way his voice wrapped around me like a shield. The way his eyes stayed, not like he was just looking at me, but trying to read <ol><li>me. </li></ol>

 I bite the inside of my cheek and excuse myself before Caroline can say anything else that might break me open.

 I head back toward the hallway. The basket is still in my arms, useless. My chest feels like it’s been filled with warm concrete heavy, confusing, hard to carry.

 And that’s when I see him.

 Hunter.

 Across the hall.

 Leaning against the doorframe, one hand tucked into his pocket, the other holding a rolled blueprint like he forgot he was supposed to be doing something with it.

 He’s looking right at me.

 Not like before. Not by ident. This time, it’s intentional. His expression is unreadable. Not soft. Not cold. Just… focused.

 Like he’s trying to solve a puzzle he doesn’t remember starting.

 Our eyes stay locked for a second too long.

 Then two.

 Then three. My fingers tighten on the basket, and turn away before I do something stupid. Like smile. Or cry. Or walk up to him and ask if he meant it when he said “She said no.”

 Because I’m not ready for that answer.

 Not yet.

 Back in theundry room, I set the basket down and lean against the counter, heart beating like it’s racing toward something I haven’t dared let myself want.

 And I wonder… If Caroline is right–What the hell am I supposed to do with a man like Hunter Reid

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Legacy 43