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XIII

Author: Maya East
last update Last Updated: 2024-12-24 16:19:30
Max chuckled as Clara lifted him high, making a rattling sound like a robot. The little boy giggled loudly, his hands flapping like a bird learning to fly.

I sat on the sofa, laptop on my lap, typing up the report due this week. Their laughter filled the house, forming an atmosphere that made me feel all was well.

"Mommy, look, I'm a robot Superman!" Max shouts, striking a strange pose: one arm stretched out like he's flying while the other grips his robot toy tightly.

“You'd make a great superhero, Maxie.” I laughed, looking at him. I glanced over at them, seeing Clara teasing Max under the pretense of going after him.

Clara was an irreplaceable presence in this house. She knew how to make Max happy and fill the void I couldn't constantly fill, especially when I was drowning at work or caught up in messy feelings like now.

"You really saved my life, Cece." I said, half-joking while typing the last line of my report.

"Ah, you know I'm glad to be here. Max is a wonderful boy. How could
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  • His Son, Her Secret   XIV

    This guy wasn't an asshole in the same way as Pascha. That was one thing I could admit without hesitation.Julian might be too conscious of his image but doesn't hide his weapons. Everything he did was open and obvious, unlike the other guy who still haunted me with that cold smile and game that always made me feel trapped.Inside, the atmosphere was luxurious. The Roles family had truly mastered the art of impressing their guests. A large crystal chandelier hung in the hall's center, and the scent of expensive wine and classical music's soft sounds filled the air.We didn't have to search for our hosts for long. The Roles—husband and wife, who looked more like living porcelain figurines, immediately greeted us with broad, overly friendly smiles."Belva Moguel!" exclaimed Mrs. Roles enthusiastically, grabbing both my hands. "It's been a long time. You were just a little girl the last time I saw you."I smiled slightly, trying to remain polite. "Thank you for inviting me, Mrs. Roles. Yo

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  • His Son, Her Secret   XV

    "Julian Warren." The voice sliced through the air, heavy and cold.Standing before us was Pascha Romanov, his towering frame exuding an aura of dominance. His thin, calculated smile shifted between us, lingering on me for an excruciating few seconds that seemed to stretch into eternity.Julian, who had been so at ease just moments ago, stiffened. Straightening his posture, he greeted Pascha."Pascha Romanov. It’s been a long time."I did not join the conversation. I couldn't because I immediately focused on Mikaela Morris, the woman beside Pascha—the woman I used to call my best friend.She stood there nervously, her hand clutching Pascha's arm like an anchor. Her eyes glanced at me several times, only to look away immediately. Her once confident face now looked doubtful, even a little flushed.How dare she stand here. How dare these two traitors approach me."Are you here on business?" Julian asked Pascha."Partly," Pascha answered casually. "And partly for personal matters."I swirl

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  • His Son, Her Secret   XVI

    I exited the bathroom quickly, trying to ignore the heavy feeling that hung in my chest after the conversation with Mikaela. When I arrived at the main hall, Julian walked straight up to me, his expression full of curiosity."Belva, are you okay?" he asked, but before I could answer, he continued, "You look like you just talked to a ghost."I almost laughed bitterly. It’s a ghost of the past that wouldn't leave."I want to go home," I said, cutting off whatever else he wanted to say.Julian looked surprised for a moment, but he soon nodded. "Alright. If you want to go home, let's go home."Without another word, I followed him outside. An incredible night breeze greeted us as we walked to the car. I let out a long breath, trying to calm my chaotic mind.Once we were seated in the car, Julian started talking."You know, parties like this are always full of little dramas," he said as he turned the steering wheel, heading down the deserted streets. "People making small talk, pretending to

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  • His Son, Her Secret   XVII

    I stood in front of the stove, busy stirring the pancake batter, my hair still wrapped in rollers.The sound of steps running across the wooden floor made me let out a long sigh. Max, with seemingly endless energy, kept running from one end of the house to the other, even though Clara had tried to catch him to put on his pre-kindergarten uniform."Maximus Superman, stop running around!" Clara called out from the living room, her breathing starting to sound a little tired. She held the little navy blue uniform in one hand while the other was outstretched, trying to grab Max, who was nimbly dodging. "If you don't stop, we won't make it in time, Superman!""But I want to play!" Max replied in a loud voice.I rolled my eyes as I poured pancake batter onto the hot griddle, producing a soothing sizzling sound. "Maxie, listen to Cece. Or you won't get to eat Mommy's pancakes!"Max stopped suddenly. The little boy turned his head towards the kitchen with dilated eyes. "Pancakes? With chocolate

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  • His Son, Her Secret   XVIII

    The five-star restaurant, with large glass and inviting modern decor, looked luxurious even from the outside. Julian was already waiting for me at a table by the window, waving enthusiastically as I entered."Lunch at a place like this? You really know how to spend money, Julian," I said as I sat down."Good investment for my lunch date," he replies, grinning.We order, and for a few minutes, Julian starts rambling on about various things, projects, annoying clients, and even his bad experience with food at a meeting in Canada. I was afraid I'd gotten comfortable with his incoherent ramblings, but I felt a little more relaxed, even though my mind was still in turmoil.When the food arrived, I stirred the soup slowly in front of me, trying to figure out how to say something that had been nagging at me."Julian," I finally said, looking at him carefully."Hm?" He looked at me as he spooned his food."You know I'm working on a big project, right?""Of course," he replied. "That Lantum Min

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  • His Son, Her Secret   XIX

    "Let go of me, Pascha," I hiss, trying to pull my hand from his grasp.He didn't move. Instead, he stepped closer, making me back away until my back was against the wall. My heart skipped a beat, and I felt like I couldn't breathe."Five years, Belva," he whispered, full of something dark. "Five years, and you think you can escape everything?"I tried to open my mouth to reply, but he leaned in before I could say anything.His lips crashed into mine, hard and demanding.It felt like fire exploding in my chest—anger, shock, and something else I didn't want to admit. I tried to push him away, but he was stronger, and the kiss deepened, consuming every second that passed.Finally, I managed to push him hard enough to make him take a step back. I looked up at him with bated breath, my eyes filled with anger that I couldn't put into words."What the hell were you thinking, asshole?" My voice trembled, louder than I intended.He leaned casually against the sink, a maddening smirk tugging at

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  • His Son, Her Secret   XX

    The darkness slowly faded, and I felt like I was being pulled back to reality. Pain radiated throughout my body like small waves that never stopped. My eyes opened slowly, trying to adjust to the dim lamplight hanging from the ceiling of the room.I didn't recognize this place. The room was spacious and luxurious, with neutral-coloured walls. My bed was soft and too comfortable for an ordinary hospital.I tried to move my body, but the stinging pain struck immediately. I winced, looked down at my bandaged right hand and felt something poking in my arm-an IV.What had happened?Then, the fragments of events started to come back.A loud crash. The glass shattering. The pain that hit like a hurricane. And then... the shadow.Pascha.I groaned softly, trying to rise slightly despite my body's loud protests. It was then that I noticed the large window on the side of the room, revealing the glittering night view of San Francisco.It was already night.Panic immediately struck me."Max..." I

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  • His Son, Her Secret   XXI

    My body felt more refreshed. I rested my head on the pillow and watched Max, who was busy drawing on a table in the corner of the room. Clara sat on a chair near my bed, scrolling through the screen of her phone, occasionally smiling at Max.Max and Clara has been here for two hours, just like I asked. I don't know what I would have done if I hadn't seen their faces as soon as I opened my eyes.This morning began with a bit of luck. A friendly nurse told me that Pascha had left early in the morning before I had even woken up. There was "important business" he had to take care of, she said. That gave me a little breathing space and calmed my longing for Max, at least for now.But when the bedroom door creaked open, all that peace was gone in an instant.Jacob walked in.He was dressed in his doctor's coat. His eyes immediately caught Max's presence, and my eyebrows immediately knitted together.Max, without any awkwardness, looked at him and smiled kindly. "Hello, Doc," Max greeted inno

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Latest chapter

  • His Son, Her Secret   CLXXXI : aching laughter, restless monsters

    "Why do humans even watch horror movies if they end up too scared to use the bathroom?" Max's voice rang out loud and clear, laced with heavy sarcasm."Because humans are stupid and sometimes like to create problems for themselves." Mischa added with an eerily calm tone, completely emotionless,I choked a little on my tea, trying not to laugh.At the dining table, Kyara and Aurora sat looking like zombies freshly risen from the grave. Kyara's hair was a mess, she was wearing my hoodie with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows, while Aurora was still in my house dress, sleepily munching on breakfast. They were both sluggishly shoving pieces of toast into their mouths."Don’t tease Auntie Kyara and Auntie Aurora, Max," I warned him."But Mommy," Max protested, pointing at Kyara, "Auntie Kyara slept on the couch hugging my bike helmet! And she was mumbling in her sleep!""And she said 'don’t open that door, it’s a trap' three times," Mischa added flatly, staring at Kyara’s toast like it w

  • His Son, Her Secret   CLXXX : Karma Never Knocks, It Breaks In

    The dinner table was packed with small dishes. Lasagna, garlic bread, spinach salad, and a big bowl of mashed potatoes that Aurora had prepared with scientific precision. In the middle of it all, Max and Mischa sat side by side, both wearing plastic aprons with robots and unicorns on them.“So...,” Aurora muttered, “you have two kids now?”“It’s... an emergency situation.”Kyara, sitting beside Aurora, immediately jumped in. “Emergency? Emergency? From where I'm sitting, that mini-Russian has already claimed territory in your house.”Max, his mouth full of cheese, pointed at Mischa. "She's cool! She’s teaching me Russian! Now I can say ‘robot’ in a badass voice! Robot." Max said, with an accent that was... highly questionable.Mischa just kept chewing her bread, unfazed. Her gaze was blank yet sharp, like a tiny Wednesday Addams who had wandered into a happy family dinner."I don't need an invitation," Mischa said casually, shrugged. "I'm already here."Aurora raised an eyebrow. "You

  • His Son, Her Secret   CLXXIX : We Never Go Out of Style

    That morning, the sun hung low over the San Francisco skyline, casting a soft glow that danced across the glass walls of the headquarters. I stood in front of the final presentation slide for the Lantum Mining project, the hum of the air purifier quietly filling the room, and my heart beat in an unfamiliar rhythm: slow… but heavy.Around me, the tech team was assembling the final report and prepping the soft launch of our AI-based ground stability monitoring system, soon to be deployed at the last satellite mining site. On the screen, every indicator was green. All the data integration, tech synchronization, and final testing. Flawless.“This,” I said, clicking the last slide on the remote, “is our final milestone. We’re officially done.”There was a soft round of applause. Not wild. But enough. Because this wasn’t just about finishing a project, it was validation. Of our work, our choices, our resilience.And for a moment, I just stood there. Staring at the screen.Then the breath ca

  • His Son, Her Secret   CLXXVIII : you drew stars, but never stayed to see them fall.

    I was driving with one hand, the other resting under my chin. Kyara sat in the passenger seat, wearing oversized sunglasses that looked like they belonged to a celebrity fresh off a Vogue shoot.“I still can’t believe it,” she said. “She’s pregnant, Bell. And you… you just—” She twisted toward me and let out a strangled noise of pure frustration. “—offered yourself up like a sandwich he dropped five years ago!”I clenched my jaw. “Ky…”“No, seriously.” Her voice was low and sharp. “He slept with Mikaela when you were about to marry him, then you got pregnant, and now Mikaela is pregnant and you slept with him again. I’m sorry, but this isn’t a soap opera anymore. This is Shakespearean tragedy with WiFi.”I gripped the steering wheel tighter. “I know. I… know.”But knowing wasn’t enough. Not when the shame crawled from the back of my neck to my cheeks, hot like a slap from the reality I’d refused to face. I ran a hand over my face, fingers trembling slightly.“Shit,” I muttered. “I fee

  • His Son, Her Secret   CLXXVII : The Morning After Never Ends

    Glass shelves, matte-black drawers, and a line of clothing racks stretched from one end of the room to the other. Filled with suits, shirts, and, oddly, rows of women’s clothes.I pulled open the third drawer, just like he said.And there it was.A pale gray knit sweater, wide-necked and slightly stretched around the collar from too much wear. I took a quiet breath as my fingers brushed the fabric. I knew this sweater.It used to be my emergency jacket when New York suddenly turned cold in Pascha’s penthouse. Back when we were still living together after graduation, before everything turned to rubble. It was the sweater I wore while eating instant ramen at 2 a.m., waiting on the couch for him to get home late from Romanov HQ, watching criminal series he never quite understood.I shut the drawer slowly, my breath trembling in silence. Then I glanced at the clothing rack beside it.Dresses. Blouses. Sweaters. Trousers. Silk pajamas. All… in sizes that, in a way far too strange, fit me e

  • His Son, Her Secret   CLXXVI : I Know Better. I Just Don’t Do Better.

    Morning sunlight slipped through the gap in the thin linen curtains, fluttering gently in the sea breeze.Warm. Soft. Peaceful.Too damn peaceful.My eyes fluttered open, and the first thing my brain registered was the ceiling—too high... and way too unfamiliar.Pascha’s mansion.I froze.My body tensed as I realized the warmth wrapped around my waist from behind wasn’t a blanket. It was an arm.Long. Strong. Bare.Wrapped around me like a gate I couldn’t break through.“Fuck,” I breathed out, almost like a prayer caught in my throat.A long sigh escaped my lips as I tried to piece things together. Didn’t take long. My head throbbed faintly. My neck still felt kissed. My legs still tangled in the mess of last night.Damn it.“Fuck me,” I whispered again.“Already did, Pchelka. More than once.”I jolted and half turned. “Pascha!”His eyes were still closed, face half-buried in the pillow, but a smug smile tugged at his lips.One of his arms was still draped around my waist, pulling me

  • His Son, Her Secret   CLXXV : Lips Red, Knees Weak, Soul Gone [21+]

    The cold air brushed against my skin as Pascha pulled the fabric of my T-shirt, which was roughly uncovered until it pooled under my chin. My breath caught. I didn't have time to be embarrassed, let alone protest, because his eyes were already smouldering like a hungry animal spotting prey.“Shit.” His voice was hoarse, guttural like he was choking himself with desire.And then...Heat.His tongue swipes over my nipples in slow motion, too conscious, too deliberate, like he wants to memorize every earthquake he triggers in my body. I squirm, my back arching without realizing it, hands gripping his short hair. Whether to pull him away or to bring him closer, I don't even know."Pascha...” his name came out as a moan, broken by the vibrations he left behind every time his lips sucked, every time his teeth pressed with sweet menace.He growled, the vibrations flowing straight from his mouth to my chest, to my spine, to the rest of my body. His one hand gripped my hip, holding me immobile

  • His Son, Her Secret   CLXXIV : Out of My Hands

    Jullian hadn’t even made it fully to his feet when Pascha’s second punch slammed into his face. The sound was thick, flesh meeting bone, followed by Jullian’s groan as he crashed back down into the sand, his hand flying to his cheek, already red and starting to bruise.“Don’t you ever touch her again,” Pascha growled, his chest heaving, and I didn’t recognize this man at all.I threw myself between them, shoving at Pascha’s chest with both hands. But his body was like stone.“Stop! ARE YOU INSANE?!” I screamed, my voice caught somewhere between panic and rage.He didn’t answer. His eyes stayed locked on Jullian, who was now sitting up, propping himself on one arm, breathing hard.“He touched you,” Pascha shouted at me.“YOU HAVE NO RIGHT!” I snapped, standing in front of Jullian now. “You don’t get to decide when you’re my son’s father, and when you’re—whatever the hell you think you are!”Pascha finally turned to me.His eyes were burning.I swallowed hard. “You can’t just show up an

  • His Son, Her Secret   CLXXIII : even gentle hands can’t erase the ones that bruised you first

    I froze.The sea breeze that had felt cool just moments ago now stung my skin like tiny needles. An inheritance?An heir?That... didn’t make any sense. My father was not someone who gave me anything. Not love, not protection, not even a place to return to after everything that happened at St. Sophia. He was the man who sat in the old armchair in our living room with those dark eyes that demanded A+ on every test, the man who raised a wooden ruler with a cold hand because of a single B.The man who, along with his wife—my biological mother—kicked me out of the house with one sentence: You’re a disgrace.And now... five years later, wrapped in a thin blanket under the night sky, hearing that the daughter they once labeled emotionally broken and too stubborn to love, the one they said could never compare to Ben—own everything they once used to crush me.My hands clenched the edge of the blanket. “Isn’t Ben the one managing everything?”Javier nodded . “Yeah. He handles the operations.

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