Legacy 47_The Billionaire’s Secret Heirs

Chapter 47

 -CELINE-

 Heat climbs up my neck as I close the door behind Hunter My words hang in the air like a confession I never meant to make

 ‘Have you ever gone to bed hungry just so someone else could eat?

 I press my palms against my burning cheeks and sink onto the small sofa, mortified. Once again, I’d shown Hunter Reid my most vulnerable side, the struggling single mother, the charity case, the pitiful girl who couldn’t catch a break.

 “Mommy?” Caesar’s sleepy voice calls from the bedroom.

 I take a deep breath, forcing the shame down. “Yes, baby. I’m here.”

 Pushing myself up, I walk to the bedroom doorway. Caesar sits up in bed, rubbing his eyes, his dark curls tousled from sleep. The sight of him, so innocent, so perfect, steadies my racing heart.

 “Theard voices,” he mumbles.

 “It was n

 nothing, sweetheart.” I cross the room and sit on the edge of his bed. “Just grown–up stuff. Go back to sleep.”

 He looks at me with those piercing blue eyes ‘Hunter’s eyes for a moment, I see something too knowing, too perceptive for a three- year–old. But then he yawns, and he’s just my little boy again,

 “Will you sing to me?” he asks, snuggling back under his covers.

 I smooth his hair away from his forehead. “Of course.”

 I sing softly, an old luby my grandmother used to sing, one of the few good memories from my childhood. Caesar’s eyes grow heavy, and soon his breathing evens out.

 I stay there for a few minutes, watching him sleep, wondering for the thousandth time if I’m doing the right thing.

 Working for Hunter, living in his home, keeping Caesar’s paternity secret–it’s a web ofplications I never wanted.

 But what choice did I have? After losing my job at The Aurelia, bills piled up faster than I could manage that her cousin needed household staff, it seemed like fate.

 Caroline mentioned

 I couldn’t have known it was Hunter–the same man who’d fired me, the same man who’d unknowingly fathered my child during that hazy, forgotten night three years ago.

 My phone buzzes with a text from Sally:

 “Mr. Reid asked for you in his study. He seemed upset you didn’t show up earlier.

 I frown. No one had told me Hunter wanted to see me. I type back quickly.

 Just got this message. Caesar was having trouble sleeping, I’ll check if he still needs me

 I nce at the clock–10:22 PM. Late, but not toote. If Hunter’s still working, I should at least exin myself

 With a sigh, I change from my pajamas into jeans and a simple blouse. I run a brush through my hair, wishing I had time for a proper shower.

 The day’s work.. dusting, vacuuming, helping Cook with dinner prep…clings to my skin.

 Icheck on Caesar once more before quietly slipping out.

 The main house is eerily quiet at night. My footsteps echo against marble floors as I make my way to Hunter’s study,

 The grandeur of the mansion never fails to intimidate me–crystal chandeliers, priceless artwork, and furniture worth more than T earn in a letime.

 Outside Hunter’s study, I hesitate, suddenly aware of how wrong this is. A maid visiting her employer’s private study at night, alone. I should turn back, and wait until morning.

 But before I can decide, the door swings open.

 Hunter stands there, jacket discarded, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, button undone. He looks exhausted, the sharp lines of his face softened by fatigue.

 “You’rete,” he says, but without the bite from earlier.

 “I’m sorry,” I say. “I just saw Sally’s message. No one told me you needed help.”

 He studies me for a long moment, his gaze intense. Then he steps back, wordlessly inviting me in.

 The study is a mess of papers, and files scattered across his desk, hisptop open to a spreadsheet. Two empty scotch sses sit beside a te of cookies.

 “You wanted my help with documents?” I ask, keeping my voice professional.

 Hunter runs a hand through his hair, messing it further. “The Stevens contract. I need it for tomorrow’s meeting, but I can’t find it.”

 “Did you check your email? Maybe it’s there.”

 “Of course, I checked my email,” he snaps, then sighs. “Sorry. I’ve been looking for hours.”

 The apology surprises me. I’ve never heard Hunter Reid apologize to anyone, let alone to me.

 “Let me help,” I offer, moving toward his desk.

 He watches me, his face unreadable as I start organizing the chaos, creating neat piles by date and sul following my movements.

 “How do you do that?” he asks after a few minutes.

 “Do what?”

 “Stay so calm. So…posed.”

 I almostugh. “I’m notposed. I’m just used to solving problems.”

 “Because of your son?” he asks, and my hands freeze mid–motion.

 I nce up at him, “Because of life.”

 Something hints in his eyes, curiosity, perhaps. Or recognition.

 can feel his eyes

 – 1209 Thu 31 Jung

 We work in silence for a while, the only sound of the shuffling of papers and the asional sigh from Hunter.

 I find the Stevens contract tucked inside a folderbeled “Pending Acquisitions.” Relief washes over Hunter’s face when I hand it to him

 *Thank you,” he says, his voice softer than I’ve ever heard it.

 I nod, ready to leave, but he stops me with a question,

 “Was it hard?” he asks. “Raising him alone?”

 Then

 question catches me off guard. Hunter has never shown interest in my personal life before, let alone in Caesar.

 “Yes,” I answer honestly. “It still is.”

 Hunter looks down at the contract in his hands. “He’s a good kid.”

 “The best,” I agree, warmth blooming in my chest at the thought of my son.

 “He looks like someone I know,” Hunter says, and my heart stops.

 Here it is. The moment I’ve been dreading. Has he figured it out? Does he know?

 But Hunter just shakes his head, as if dismissing the thought. “He seems happy, though. You must be doing something right.”

 Thepliment, however small, feels hugeing from him. I’ve spent weeks being criticized, examined, and made to feel bad at every turn.

 “Itry,” I say simply.

 Our eyes meet, and for a second, there’s something there–a connection, an understanding that outshines our roles as employer

 and employee.

 As a man and woman. As strangers who once shared something neither of us remembers.

 But then Hunter looks away, clearing his throat. “It’ste! You should get back to your son.”

 Inod, eager to escape the strange tension building between us. “Goodnight, Mr. Reid.”

 “Hunter,” he says, surprising me. “When we’re alone… you can call me Hunter.”

 The intimacy of the request sends a shiver down my spine. “Goodnight, Hunter,” I whisper. <fndae4> ???s ??????? ?s ?????? ?? find·novel</fndae4>

 He doesn’t respond, already turning back to his work. But as I reach the door, his voice stops me again.

 “Celine?”

 Itumn back. “Yes?”

 “The cookies,” he says. “They were good.”

 It’s such a small thing, yet I feel a smile tugging at my lips. “I’ll tell Cook you enjoyed them.”

 “You made them,” he states, not a question.

 3/4 

 I blink, surprised he knew. “Yes. Caesar loves chocte chip.”

 Hunter nods as if filing away this piece of information. “I can see why”

 The air between us grows thick again with something unknown. I need to leave before I do something foolish, like mistake his momentary kindness for something more.

 “Goodnight,” I say again, more firmly this time.

 Back in the staff quarters, I check on Caesar, still sound asleep, blissfully unaware of the difficulties stirring around him. I change back into my pajamas and crawl into bed beside him, my mind spinning.

 Hunter Reid is a storm–unpredictable, powerful, and destructive. I’ve spent years building a life for Caesar and me, a small but stable existence.

 Thest thing we need is a hurricane tearing through our carefully constructed world. 

 But as I drift off to sleep, I can’t help wondering what it would be like to stand in the eye of that storm, where they say it’s perfectly

 calm, clear.

 And for a moment, just before sleep ims me, I allow myself to imagine what it would be like if Hunter knew the truth–if he looked at Caesar and saw himself.

 If he looked at me and saw more than just a maid, more than just a charity case.

 If he looked at us and saw a family.

 A dangerous thought, I know. But in the quiet darkness of night, I let myself dream it anyway.

 €1

17kNovel

Legacy 47