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17kNovel > The Billionaire’s Secret Heirs > Legacy 60

Legacy 60

    <b>Chapter </b><b>60 </b>


    <b>-HUNTER- </b>


    “Get me everything on this, I bark into my phone, pacing my office <b>like </b>a caged animal “I want to know who took the photo, who published it, and who <b>paid </b>for it. <b>Today </b>


    <b>I </b>hang up without waiting for a response.


    The tabloid lies open on my desk, Celine’s startled face staring up at me, I’ve seen that expression before when I confronted her in the hallway when t dismissed her after theke house.


    But this time, there’s something else in her <b>eyes</b>.


    <b>Fear</b><b>. </b>


    I press my palms against my <b>desk</b>, <b>leaning </b>forward until my shoulders strain. This isn’t just about me anymore. Whatever game someone is ying they’ve dragged her into it,


    And Caesar.


    My study door


    or opens without a knock. Vincent strides in, tablet in hand, expression grim.


    “It’s already trending,” he says without warm–up.


    -up. “Social media, news sites, business blogs. The stock dropped three points in the first hour of trading”


    “I don’t care about the stock.”


    Vincent’s eyebrows rise slightly. “Since whon?”


    Before I can answer, Caroline bursts into the room, her normally perfect hair slightly disheveled, eyes wide with concern.


    “What the hell is going on, Hunter?” She <b>waves </b>her phone at me. <b>Tve </b>got reporters calling <b>me </b>forments. Comments about your maid?”


    “She’s not…” I stop myself, “I called y


    you here to help, not to add to the noise.”


    Caroline studies my y face. “You have no idea what’s happening, do you<b>?</b><b>” </b>


    “Someone’s trying to create a scandal,” I say tly. “It’s not the first time.”


    “No.” Caroline agrees, perching on the edge of my desk. “But it’s the first time they’ve used someone like Celine. Someone she hesitates. “Someone


    who matters.


    Lignore the implication. “I need to control the narrative. We issue a statement-”


    My phone rings, interrupting me. Mother’s name shes on the screen, along with her imperious profile photo<b>. </b>I silence it without a second thought.


    “Hunter,” Caroline says softly. “You need to talk to her eventually.”


    “Not now.” I toss the phone aside. “She’ll just say what she’s been saying all <b>along</b>–that having Celine work here with her child was a bad idea. That Celine is out to ruin me<b>, </b><b>using </b>that child to confuse me.”


    My phone lights up <b>again</b>. Mother called Caroline this time. Caroline holds up her screen, showing me the iing call


    I run a <b>hand </b>through my hair. “Don’t-


    But Caroline is already answering. <b>“</b>Aunt Eleanor, yes. Good morning to you too.” She wances, holding the phone slightly away from her ear. “Yes. To wi him right now…. No, he’s not ignoring you, he’s in a meeting… I know it’s serious. <fne6b4> Get full chapters from Find~Novel</fne6b4>


    She mouths “sorry” at me, her eyes pleading for help.


    Iscan the room<b>, </b>suddenly realizing something, “Where’s Colina?”


    Vincent nces up from his tablet. “Haven’t seen her since I got here.”


    Tcatch sight of Ana passing by iny study door, “Ana,” I call out,


    She freezes, eyes wide. Yes, Mr. Reid?”


    “Where’s Ms. Brown?”


    Ana hesitates, ncing nervously at the open door. “I saw her heading to the staff quarters with her son about twenty minutes ago<b>, </b><b>sir</b><b>.</b><b>” </b>


    A feeling of unease creeps up my spine. Without another word, I stride past Ana and down the hallway, ignoring Caroline’s mulled exnation to my mother about where I’m going


    The whispers follow me through the mansion–staff members falling silent <b>as </b>I pass, their eyes tracking my movement. I’m used to this reaction, <b>but </b>today it feels different.


    Today<b>, </b>the assumption isn’t just about me


    The door to Celine’s quarters is slightly ajar, <b>I </b>pause outside, hearing movement within. When I push the door open, the scene before me makes my chest tighten,


    Celine is packing, moving frantically around the small room<b>, </b>her belongings half–stuffed into a worn duffel bag. Tears stream down her face as the mutters to <b>herself</b>, too lost in her panic to notice me.


    Caesar stands in the center of the room, clutching his dinosaur toy, his small face <b>a </b>mask of <b>confusion </b>as he watches his mother’s distress.


    ng up with recognition. “Hunter” he says brightly, seemingly relieved to see a familiar face in the chaos.


    The boy spots me first, his face lighting u


    <b>I </b>manage a <b>smile </b>for him, but my eyes are fixed on Celine. She still <b>hasn’t </b>noticed me, her hands trembling as she folds a small t–shirt.


    Caroline appears behind me<b>, </b>calling Celine’s name softly. She notices me and hesitates in the doorway.


    “Celine,” I say, my voice surprisingly gentle.


    She jumps<b>, </b>finally seeing us. Her eyes are red rimmed, her face blotchy from crying. Something in my chest twists painfully at the sight.


    “I’ll be gone in an hour,” she says, her voice hoarse. “I just need to pack Caesar’s things.<b>” </b>


    Caroline steps forward, her expression softening “Celine, you don’t have to


    “<b>Caroline</b>,” interrupt “Take Caesar out, please. Tell Vincent Till meet him in my study”


    Caroline looks between us, clearly worried about leaving Celine alone with me in this state. “Hunter”


    “Please,” I say, my eyes not leaving Celine’s face.


    With a hesitant nod, Caroline stretches her hand to Caesar. “Hey <b>buddy</b>, want to help me find some cookies in the kitchen?”


    The boy looks shaky, ncing at his mother.


    “<b>It’s </b><b>okay</b>, sweetheart,” Celine manages, wiping quickly at her cheeks. “Go with Caroline”


    Caesar takes Caroline’s hand, but not before giving me a sober look. I nod <b>at </b>him, hoping it’s reassuring. Caroline shoots me a warning nce that clearly says “Be nice” before leading the child away


    Troll my eyes and turn back to Celine, who has already resumed her desperate packing. She’s not even folding anymore, just shoving things into the bag?


    14:59


    Aug


    €


    “Enough,” I say, grabbing her wrist and pulling her to face ine. She resists for a moment before going still, her eyes downcast. “Stop acting crazy and pr your act together. You’ve done nothing wrong.


    She shakes her head, “You don’t understand. This is just the beginning. They’ll dig deeper, find more…”


    “Having a scandal is a normal thing for me, interrupt. “Ites with the territory,”


    “I should have never epted a job here,” she whispers, her voice <b>breaking</b>.


    Tagree with you,” <b>I </b>say, and her head snaps up, eyes widening with hurt. “I shouldn’t have given you the job. You’re a puzzle I can’t figure out, Celine.”


    The words hang between us, not what either of us expected <b>me </b>to say, Fresh tears spilled down her cheeks as her calm crumbledpletely. She tries to turn away, but I pull her against me instead, wrapping my arms around her trembling form


    “Shh,” I murmur into her hair,


    r, one hand moving up to stroke the soft waves. “It’s going to be okay.”


    She cries <b>harder</b>, her body shaking against mine<b>. </b>I hold her tighter, surprised by how right it feels to have her in my arms, how natural it is tofort her


    After several minutes, her sobs subside. She lifts her head to look up at me, eyes swollen but clearer. “What are you going to do now?”


    I wipe away a tear from her cheek with my thumb, my touch lingering. “I handle it,” I tell her. “Like I handle every other problem.”


    Something glimmers in her eyes. “Is that what we are to you? Me and Caesar? A problem? A charity case?”


    The question catches me off <b>guard</b>. Her words from beforee back to me–the day she overheard me talking to Vincent. I stare down at her tear stained face, feeling something shift inside me.


    “I don’t know,” admit, the honesty surprising us both.


    She holds my gaze for a long moment before resting her head against my chest again. I feel her sigh, the tension <b>gradually </b>leaving her body.


    My hand moves to her back, tracing slow circles through the thin fabric of her uniform.


    We stay like that, neither of us speaking, my chin resting on top of her head. Outside this room, a storm is brewing–reporters, assumption, my mother’s Jury, Vincent’s damage control strategies.


    But for now, at this moment, there’s only the quiet sound of her breathing and the strange sense of peace thates from holding her


    A peace I haven’t folt in years. A peace I’m not sure I <b>deserve</b>.
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