Legacy 59_The Billionaire’s Secret Heirs

Chapter 59 

 -HUNTER-

 “I need you to handle something.”

 The wordse out sharper than nned as I watch Celine across the hallway. Her eyes, those warm brown eyes that usually” sparkle with life..look dull, the skin around them slightly puffy.

 Has she been crying? Because of what I said?

 A sh of guilt twists in my chest before I stamp it down. This is better for both of us.

 “Couldn’t one of the other maids handle it?” she asks, her voice t.

 “I want you to do it.” My eyes never leave her face as I study those puffy eyes.

 Something in me wants to reach out, to brush my thumb across her cheek and ask what’s wrong, even though I suspect I already know the answer.

 “Anything else, sir?” The politeness in her tone is a wall between us…one I helped build.

 “The Italian investors will be here tomorrow. I need the east wing guest rooms prepared to my exact specifications.” I hand her a folder with detailed instructions. “And I want you to personally escort Signor Romano during his stay.”

 Her eyes widen slightly. “Escort? I don’t understand.”

 “Show him around, make sure he has everything he needs. He’s an important client.” I clear my throat. “That’s all.”

 She nods curtly, taking the folder without letting our fingers touch it.

 I watch her walk away, her spine straight, her steps counted. The distance between us feels both necessary and unbearable.

 The mansion is buzzing with activity the next day. The Italian delegation arrived promptly at ten, and negotiations have been proceeding smoothly in the living room.

 I should be pleased.

 Instead, I find myself on the balcony overlooking the garden, watching as Celine guides Signor Romana through the property’s grounds.

 Romano is exactly as I remember him…tall, distinguished, with salt–and–pepper hair and the easy charm thates with old money and older connections. 

 He’s saying something to Celine now, gesturing broadly at the rose garden, and she’s–She’sughing. <fnc099> Th? link to the orig?n of this information r?sts ?n find{n}ovel</fnc099>

 I can’t hear it from here, but I can see the way her head tilts back slightly, the way her shoulders shake. It’s a genuineugh, not the polite one she uses with most guests.

 Something in my chest tightened.

 Romano takes a step closer to her, pointing at something in the distance. His handes to rest on her lower back–briefly,

 1/6 

 casually, the touch of a man familiar with having his advances welthmed,

 My grip on the railing tightens until my knuckles turn white.

 “The board agrees with your proposal,” Vincent says, appearing beside me. “We can move forward with… He stops, following my gaze. “Ah. I see you’ve noticed Romano’s… appreciation for the staff.”

 “He’s here to sign contracts, not flirt with the help,” I snap.

 Vincent raises an eyebrow. “Since when do you care who flirts with the help?”

 I don’t answer. I can’t because I don’t have an exnation that makes sense–not even to myself.

 Instead, I turn and walk back inside. “Tell Romano I want to see him. Now

 Hourster, after the contracts are signed and the Italians have departed for their hotel, I find myself prowling the halls like a caged animal. The memory of Romano’s hand on Celine’s back ys on repeat in my mind.

 I round a corner and there she is, carrying fresh linens toward the east wing. She stops when she sees me, her face carefully neutral.

 “Mr. Reid.”

 “Miss Brown.” I take a step closer. “I saw you with Romano today.”

 She blinks. “Yes, I was showing him the grounds. As instructed.”

 “He was flirting with you.”

 Something shes in her eyes…defiance, perhaps. “So? Why do you care?”

 The question hangs between us, demanding an answer I’m not prepared to give. The hallway suddenly feels too small, the air too 

 thick.

 “You have no idea how dangerous that man is,” I say instead, my voice low.

 “And you think you’re safe?” she shoots back, her grip tightening on the linens.

 The words hit their mark with unerring precision. No, I’m not safe..not for her. Not for anyone. That’s the whole point.

 I take another step toward her, close enough now to catch the faint scent of her perfume–something light and floral that makes my head spin.

 “I know exactly what I am,” I say, the words barely above a whisper, “Do you?”

 The air between us crackles with tension. I can see the quick rise and fall of her chest, the slight parting of her lips.

 For a wild moment, I consider closing the distance between us, pressing her against the wall, feeling the heat of her body against

 mine.

 Instead, I catch her hand–a gesture that surprises us both. Her skin is soft and warm. I hold it a split second too long, my thumb brushing across her knuckles in a touch that’s almost a caress.

 Then I let go and walked away, my pulse thundering in my ears. I don’t look back, though I can feel her eyes on melk for

 corner. 

 Even hourster, as I sit alone in my study with a ss of whiskey, I can still feel the heat of her touch hanging back on my sim Sha see the challenge in her eyes when she asks why I care.

 A question I’m no closer to answering.

 Or perhaps the truth is that I know the answer all too well, and that’s what terrifies me most.

 CELINE-

 My phone buzzes just as I finish tucking Caesar into bed. An unknown number. I almost ignore it, but something makes me answer.

 “Hello?”

 “Finally decided to pick up, did you?” The voice is familiar–Aunt Mnie, my mother’s sister. We haven’t spoken in over a year.

 “Aunt Mel?” I lower my voice, moving away from the staff bedroom. “How did you get this number?”

 “Your mother gave it to me.” There’s an edge to her voice. “We need to talk, Celine. It’s important.”

 I close my eyes, leaning against the wall “About what?”

 “Not over the phone. Meet me tomorrow. The old apartment.”

 “I can’t just…”

 “Make time.” She cuts me off. “Unless you want your fancy boss to learn all about your family history.” 

 The line goes dead before I can respond.

 A chill runs through me. It’s not a coincidence that she’s reaching out now, just when my life has started to stabilize. Just when

 Hunter and L.

 No. There is no “Hunter and I.” Not after he called me a charity case. Not after I saw the true Hunter Reid behind the momentary

 kindness.

 Still, the threat in Aunt Mel’s voice is unmistakable. Whatever she wants, it can’t be good.

 The next afternoon, I requested a few hours off. Head maid Sally gives me a curious look but doesn’t question it when I mention at family emergency.

 The neighborhood where I grew up hasn‘

 flickering neon sign.

 changed–still the same cracked sidewalks, the same bodega on the corner with its

 The apartment building seems smaller than I remember, its brick facade more weathered.

 I climb the familiar stairs, my heart pounding. The door to apartment 38 is slightly ajar.

 “Hello?” I call out, pushing it open.

 The living room is dimly lit, cigarette smoke hanging in the air. My sister Jesse sits on the worn couch, looking both the same andpletely different.

 Her dark hair is expensively highlighted now, and her nails are professionally done, but the sharp calction in her ey is unchanged

 “Well, well. Look who finally decided to grace us with her presence.” Jesse’s smile doesn’t reach her eye

 Aunt Mel emerges from the kitchen, thinner than I remember, her face lined with new wrinkles. “About time”

 “You said it was important.” I remain standing, my purse clutched against my side. “I have to get back soon.”

 “To your billionaire?” Jesse arches an eyebrow.

 “To my son, I correct her. “And my job.”

 A door opens, and a man I don’t recognize steps out of what used to be my bedroom. He’s tall, with slicked back hair and an expensive watch that looks out of ce in this apartment..

 “This is her?” he asks, looking me up and down as if appraising merchandise.

 “That’s her, Jesse confirms. “Told you she wasn’t much to look at,”

 I turn to Aunt Mel. “What’s going on? Who is he?”

 “Marcus is a business associate,” Jesse answers before Aunt Mel can speak. “And we’re discussing a business opportunity that involves you.”

 “Me?” I shake my head. “I don’t understand.”

 Jesse leans forward, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “She’s practically sleeping in the billionaire’s mansion,” she

 tells Marcus.

 “She owes us.”

 The realization hits me like a physical blow. “This is about Hunter Reid?”

 “Hunter, is it?” Jesse smirks. “Already on a first–name basis? That must make your job‘ so much easier.”

 Anger shes through me. “I’m his employee. That’s all.”

 “Sure, honey.” Aunt Mel lights a cigarette. “Look, it’s simple. That Reid fortune is massive, and you’re in a unique position to help. your family.”

 “Help how, exactly?”

 Marcus steps forward. “Information, ess Little things that could be valuable to the right people.”

 “You want me to spy on him?” I stare at them in disbelief. “To steal?”

 “Don’t be so dramatic.” Jesse rolls her eyes. “Just tell us about his routines, his security systems. Maybe borrow his phone for a few minutes”

 “Or,” Marcus adds, his voice silky, “you could introduce Jesse as your sister. I’m sure a man like Reid would appreciate meeting

 someone more… suitable for his social circl

 flook between them, these strangers wearing my family’s faces. “Vu’re out of your minds.”

 “We’re family,” Aunt Mel insists. “And family helps each other.

 “Family?”ugh, the sound is brittle and harsh. “Where was “family when I was pregnant and alone? Where was family when Caesar needed diapers and I couldn’t afford rent?”

 Jesse stands, her eyes shing. “Don’t act so high and mighty. You always thought you were better than us with your art dreams and your morals”

 “I never thought I was better than anyone,” I say quietly. “I just wanted different things”

 “Yeah, like Reid’s money.” Jesse snorts. “Face it, Celine. You’re no different from us–just luckier that your kid looks like him

 The implication sends ice through my veins. “What did you say?”

 Marcus looks between us, suddenly interested. “The kid looks like Reid? You never mentioned that.”

 “It’s nothing,” I snap. “Caesar doesn’t look like him.”

 But I can see the wheels turning in Marcus’s mind, the calction. I’ve said too much, and revealed too much in my defense.

 “I’m leaving,” l announce, turning toward the door. “And if any of youe near me or my son again, I’ll call the polica.”

 Jesse grabs my arm, her nails digging into my skin. “You could’ve saved all of us, Celine. But you chose him–a man who doesn’t even respect you.”

 I pull away from her grasp. “I chose my son. And myself. That’s all.”

 I

 The apartment door ms behind me as I hurry down the stairs, tears blurring my vision. Outside, the early evening air feels cool against my flushed face.

 I’m halfway down the block when the sh of a camera catches my eye. Across the street, someone lowers a professional–looking camera with a long lens.

 My stomach drops. Before I can react, they slip into a waiting car that speeds away 

 The next morning, I’m preparing Caesar’s breakfast when Hunter strides into the kitchen, his face like thunder. Without a word, he throws a tabloid across the table.

 ww heart nearly stops as I see the cover.

 It slides to a stop in fro

 n front of me. My

 “MAID TO MISTRESS? BILLIONAIRE’S HELP LINKED TO SHADY FAMILY

 Below the headline is a photo of me leaving my family’s apartment, looking distressed, with an inset picture of Hunter entering his office building.

 The article teases sordid details about my “criminal family connections” and hints at an “intimate rtionship” with my employer.

 I look up to find Hunter’s eyes boring into mine, cold and hard as steel.

 “What else are you hiding, Celine?” he asks, his voice dangerously quiet.

 Caesar chatters happily in his high chair, oblivious to the tension crackling between us.”

 I ce a protective hand on my son’s shoulder, meeting Hunter’s gaze steadily despite the fear coursing through me.

 “Nothing that concerns you,” I say, my voice steadier than I feel.

 But we both know it’s a lie. And now, so does the rest of New York.

 E

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Legacy 59