The Billionaire’s Secret Heirs (Celine and Hunter) novel Chapter 181

Chapter 181

Chapter 181

~CELINE POV~

Three weeks.

It had been three weeks since Caroline’s engagement party, and everything was falling apart.

I sat on the bathroom floor with my phone, scrolling through the latest articles about my past. Someone had dug up photos of me working at

the diner.

Someone else had found records of my family’s financial struggles. The comments were worse than ever.

“Looks like a gold digger from day one”

“Poor kid doesn’t stand a chance with parents like these”

“Hunter Reid really knows how to pick them”

My hands shook as I read each cruel word. I had promised Caroline I would stay off social media, but I couldn’t help myself. Every day, I told myself I wouldn’t look.

Every day, I ended up here, crying over strangers‘ hatred.

The stress was killing me. Literally.

Last week, I had collapsed in the kitchen while making Caesar lunch.

The sharp pain in my stomach had been so intense I couldn’t breathe. Hunter had rushed me to the hospital, his face white with terror.

Dr. Martinez had been gentle but firm. “The stress levels in your blood arely

high. If this continues, you risk losing the baby.”

Those words haunted me.

I was supposed to be protecting our child, but instead, I was putting both of us in danger by letting the world’s cruelty consume me.

Hunter had taken three days off work to stay home with us. He had tried to make everything normal–cooking breakfast, playing games with Caesar, suggesting we watch movies together.

But even when he was smiling, I could see the strain around his eyes. We were both pretending everything was fine when nothing was fine at

all.

I heard Caesar’s voice from the living room and quickly wiped my tears, flushing the toilet to cover the sound of my crying.

“Mama? Where are you?”

“Coming, baby.”

Lound him on the couch with his favorite truck, driving it over the cushions while making engine noises.

“Can we go to the park today?” he asked without looking up.

My heart broke a little more. Not today, sweetheart.”

“Why not? I want to see the ducks”

Because the last time we went outside, photographers had swarmed us. Because an angry woman had thrown an egg at me while screaming

about home–wreckers.

Because Hunter had to hire security guards who made us look guilty of something just by existing.

“Maybe tomorrow,” I lied.

Caesar’s face fell. “You always say tomorrow. I miss playing outside. I miss going places with Papa.”

“I know, baby. I miss it too.” And I did.

Nmissed the simple pleasure of walking down the street without feeling like prey. I missed taking Caesar to the playground without worrying about strangers asking him questions about his family.

I missed feeling like a normal person instead of some cautionary tale about ambitious women who reached too high.

“When can we be a family again?” Caesar asked, his voice small.

The question hit me like a physical blow. When could we be a family again? Did we even know how to be one anymore?

“Soon,” I whispered, pulling him onto my lap. “Papa’s working very hard to make things better.”

At least, I hoped he was. Some days, I wasn’t sure what Hunter was doing locked in his study for hours, making phone calls that ended with him shouting or drinking whiskey at two in the afternoon.

We had been giving each other space, but the space felt more like distance every day. Like we were two people drowning in the same ocean, too exhausted to reach for each other.

The afternoon passed quietly. Caesar played while I half–watched cartoons, my mind drifting to all the ways my life had changed.

Three weeks ago, I had been planning our future. Now, I spent my days hiding from the world and wondering if we had any future left to plan.

By evening, Caesar had fallen asleep curled against my side on the couch. I stroked his hair and tried not to think about the latest articles I

had seen.

Someone had found my mother and gotten her to comment about my “pattern of making poor choices.”

Someone else had interviewed Jesse, who had been happy to share details about my “difficult personality” and “unrealistic expectations.”

Even my own family was throwing me to the wolves.

The sound of the front door opening made me tense. Hunter’s footsteps were heavy, tired. When he appeared in the living room doorway, he looked like he had aged years in the past few weeks.

His hair was messy, his sleeves rolled up, his tie hanging loose around his neck. But it was his eyes that scared me—they were bloodshot and desperate.

He stopped when he saw us on the couch, his gaze moving from Caesar’s sleeping form to my face.

“How was your day?” he asked quietly.

“Fine” We both knew it was a lie.

The lawyers think they can get the worst sites to take down the photos of Caesar,” he said, loosening his tie completely.

It might take a few more days, but

“It doesn’t matter.” The words came out harsher than I meant them to. “As soon as they take down one article, three more appear.”

Hunter’s jaw tightened. “I’m handling it.”

“Are you? Because from where I’m sitting, it looks like everything’s getting worse.”

“I’m doing everything in my power to fix this!” His voice rose, making Caesar stir in his sleep.

I held my finger to my lips, warning him to keep quiet, and carefully moved our son to lie fully on the couch before standing up.

“Let’s not do this here,” I said, walking toward the kitchen.

Hunter followed, his frustration radiating off him in waves.

“I’ve hired three different PR firms,” he said, his voice lower but no less intense.

“I’ve had my lawyers send dozens of cease and desist letters. I’ve offered exclusive interviews to legitimate publications to try to control the narrative.”

“And none of it’s working.”

“It takes time….”

“Time we don’t have!” The words exploded out of me.

“I almost lost our baby last week because of the stress. Caesar can’t leave this apartment. I can’t go to the grocery store without being harassed. What’s happening to us, Hunter?”

He ran his hands through his hair, making it even messier. “I don’t know. I don’t know how it got this bad this fast.”

We stood there in the kitchen, two feet apart but feeling like miles. The silence stretched between us, heavy with all the things we weren’t saying.

“Do you still love me?”

The question came out of nowhere, soft and broken. Hunter was looking at me like his entire world depended on my answer.

“Hunter…..”

“Just tell me you love me. Please. Tell me we’re going to get through this.”

I wanted to. God, I wanted to say those words and mean them completely. But love felt complicated right now, tangled up with fear and resentment and exhaustion.

I loved him. Of course, i loved him. But I also blamed him for the fight that started this nightmare.

I blamed him for letting jealousy turn him into someone I didn’t recognize. I blamed him for dragging me into a world that seemed determined to destroy us.

When I didn’t answer immediately, something in Hunter’s expression cracked. He moved toward me, reaching out, but I flinched backward instinctively.

The hurt in his eyes made my chest light,

“Don’t” he whispered. “Don’t pull away from me

But I wrapped my arms around myself, suddenly unable to meet his gaze. Everything felt wrong. We felt wrong.

“Celine, look at me.”

I couldn’t. If I looked at him….really looked at him….I’d see how much he was hurting too. I’d see how much this was costing him. And I wasn’t ready to forgive him for the price we were all paying.

Suddenly, his arms were around me, pulling me against his chest despite my resistance.

“I love you,” he whispered into my hair. “God, I love you so much it’s killing me. You’re everything to me. Everything. My breath, my heart, my whole world.”

His voice broke on the last words, and I felt his tears against my temple.

“I would die if you left me,” he continued, holding me tighter. “I know I messed up. I know this is my fault. But please don’t give up on us. Please.”

I stood frozen in his embrace, wanting to melt into him but afraid of what that surrender would cost us.

We were both drowning, and I didn’t know if we were strong enough to save each other anymore.

Or if love would be enough to keep us both afloat.