The Billionaire’s Secret Heirs (Celine and Hunter) novel Chapter 118

Chapter 118

-CELINE’S POV-

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The knock on my door came at precisely three o’clock in the afternoon, when the mansion was at its quietest.

Hunter had left for an emergency board meeting an hour ago, Caesar was napping, and most of the staff were occupied with their afternoon

duties.

I wasn’t expecting anyone.

When I opened the door, Eleanor Reid stood there like a perfectly composed predator, her silver hair gleaming under the hallway lights, her navy Chanel suit impeccable despite the late hour.

She looked every inch the billionaire matriarch – polished, powerful, and absolutely terrifying.

“Mrs. Reid,” I managed, my voice barely above a whisper. “Is everything alright? Is Hunter….”

“Hunter is fine,” she cut me off smoothly, her cold blue eyes – so similar to her son’s, yet lacking any of his recent warmth – scanning my modest quarters behind me.

“May I come in? We need to talk.”

Every instinct screamed at me to refuse, to slam the door in her face and pretend this moment wasn’t happening. But Eleanor Reid wasn’t

the kind of woman you said no to.

Her very presence commanded submission.

I

“Of course,” I stepped aside, my hands trembling slightly as I gestured her into our small living space.

She entered like she owned the place – which, technically, she did – her designer heels clicking against our simple hardwood floors.

Her gaze swept over our modest furniture, Caesar’s toys scattered in the corner, and Blake’s coffee mug still sitting on the kitchen counter

from this morning.

“Charming,” she said, and somehow managed to make the word sound like an insult.

I closed the door behind her, my heart hammering against my ribs. “Would you like some tea? Coffee?”

“This isn’t a social call, Miss Brown.” Eleanor settled herself on our small sofa with the grace of a queen taking her throne.

“Please, sit. What I have to say won’t take long.”

I perched on the edge of the chair across from her, my back straight, hands folded in my lap like a schoolgirl called to the principal’s office.

The silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating.

Eleanor opened her designer purse….a Hermes bag that probably cost more than I’d make in five years….. and withdrew a leather portfolio.

She placed it on the coffee table between us with the deliberate precision of someone playing chess.

“You’re a smart girl, Celine,” she began, her voice cultured and calm. “Smart enough to know that this little fantasy won’t last.”

My chest tightened. “I’m sorry?”

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Chapter 118

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“Oh, don’t play coy with me. It’s beneath you.” Eleanor’s smile was sharp as a blade. “You and my son. This… arrangement you have going on. It’s temporary at best, and we both know it.”

Heat flooded my cheeks. “Mrs. Reid, I think you might have the wrong impression…”

“Do I?” She leaned forward slightly, her eyes boring into mine. “You’re sleeping with my son. Don’t insult my intelligence by denying it. The entire household knows. The question is, what do you plan to do about it?”

I opened my mouth to respond, but she held up a perfectly manicured hand.

“Before you answer, let me paint you a picture of reality,” Eleanor continued, her voice taking on the tone of a professor delivering a lecture.

“My son won’t marry you, Celine. Trust me on this. It’s all fun for him now because he thinks he loves you, but he doesn’t. Men like Hunter don’t choose women like you for keeps.”

Each word hit me like a physical blow. “You don’t know your son as well as you think you do.”

Eleanor’s laugh was like ice cracking. “Oh, my dear child. I know Hunter better than anyone. I’ve watched him cycle through women his entire adult life. Beautiful women, accomplished women, women from good families with impressive pedigrees. And do you know what they all had

in common?”

I remained silent, my throat too tight to speak.

“They weren’t good enough,” she said simply.

“None of them were. Because Hunter Reid doesn’t really want to be tied down. He wants the chase, the conquest, the temporary thrill. And

when he’s done playing house with you, he’ll move on to someone more… suitable.”

“You’re wrong,” I whispered, but my voice lacked conviction.

“Am I? Tell me, Celine – has he mentioned marriage? Has he talked about your future together? Has he even acknowledged that Caesar is his

son?”

The silence that followed was deafening. Each unanswered question felt like a nail in the coffin of my hopes.

Eleanor’s expression softened slightly, but it felt more predatory than comforting.

“I’m not saying this to be cruel. I’m saying it because I’ve seen this pattern before. My son is a Reid, and Reids marry within their social circle. It’s simply how things are done.”

She reached for the leather portfolio, opening it to reveal a single sheet of paper…. crisp, official–looking, with numbers that made my vision

blur.

“Two million dollars,” she said quietly. “More than generous for someone in your… position.”

My breath caught in my throat. “What?”

“A clean break. I will allow you to take Caesar, you disappear, and you never contact Hunter again. In return, you get enough money to give your son every opportunity he could ever want. Private schools, college, a house in a good neighborhood…..everything you’ve ever dreamed of providing for him.”

The numbers swam before my eyes. Two million dollars. More money thân I’d ever imagined having. Enough to secure Caesar’s entire future.

“You think you can buy my son?” I asked, horrified.

“I’m not buying your son. I’m buying your silence. Your absence.” Eleanor’s voice remained perfectly calm. “Caesar will be fine. Better than

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19s you could never give him not your even

Eleaver’s smile turned predatory. “Then i have no choice but to explore other options Legal options. After all, Hunter does have

other, doesn’t he**

The threat hung in the air between us like a loaded gun. My hands began to shake.

My tam has resources you can’t imagine, Celine Lawyers, investigators, and connections that reach into every corner of the legal system. We could prove that you ve been an unfit mother….. a single woman working multiple jobs, living in poverty, denying a child his birthright”

That’s not true protested weakly

“Truth is relative when you have enough money to shape it,” Eleanor replied coldly.

*s your price worth Caesar’s future? Because that’s what you’re choosing between–your stubborn refusal to accept reality, or your son’s wellbeing

I thought of Caesar, sleeping peacefully in his little bed just down the hall. My beautiful, innocent boy who deserved so much more than the struggle I’d given him so far.

would never hurt Caesar,” I said through gritted teeth.

m not asking you to hurt him. I’m asking you to love him enough to let him go.” Eleanor’s voice took on an almost gentle tone.

“Think about it, Celine. Really think. You’re a maid. Hunter is a billionaire. You come from nothing. He comes from everything. How do you

think this story ends?”

The words hit their mark with devastating precision. All my deepest fears, all my secret insecurities, lay bare by this woman who barely knew me but understood exactly where to strike.

“Hunter cares about me,” I said, but even to my own ears, it sounded like I was trying to convince myself.

“Hunter cares about the idea of you.” Eleanor corrected. “The novelty, the rebellion against his upbringing. But novelty wears off, Celine. And when it does, where will that leave you?”

She stood gracefully, smoothing down her skirt. “I’ll give you forty–eight hours to decide. Choose wisely, for Caesar’s sake.”

She moved toward the door, then paused, her hand on the handle.

“One more thing,” she said without turning around. “If you think Hunter will ride to your rescue, you’re mistaken. He’s never defied me on anything that truly mattered. He won’t start now.”

The door closed behind her with a soft click, leaving me alone with the contract and the weight of an impossible choice.

Two million dollars lay spread across my coffee table like a devil’s bargain.

And despite everything in me that wanted to tear it up and throw it in Eleanor Reid’s face, I couldn’t stop staring at those numbers, thinking about Caesar’s future, and wondering if maybe….. just maybe…..she was right about everything.

The clock on the wall ticked loudly in the silence, counting down the forty–eight hours that would determine the rest of our thes

thad never felt more alone.

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Chapter 119

Chapter 119