Page 109 of Secret Heir

Aria grips my arms. “He thinks I told you everything.”

She’s right. Alexander knows something has changed. Maybe he doesn’t have specifics, but his instincts are telling him to secure his position.

Which means we’re in immediate danger.

“We need to assume he’s taking action.” I pull out my phone, start making calls. “Complete security overhaul. Every guard vetted. Every staff member investigated. Background checks on everyone who’s been hired in the last six months.”

“That’ll take days,” Aria remarks.

“I know. But we don’t have a choice.” I pull her close, pressing a kiss to her hair. “I’m not letting him anywhere near you or Daniel. Not ever again.”

She nods against my chest, but I can feel her shaking.

We’re running out of time.

The next morning starts like any other.

I wake up with Aria curled against my side, her head on my chest. The summer sunlight filters through the curtains. For a moment I let myself pretend everything is normal and we’re just a family. That there’s no threat hanging over us.

Then reality crashes back in, and I carefully extract myself from the bed.

Aria stirs. “Where are you going?” she asks sleepily.

“The city. I need to meet with Stephen.” I lean down to kiss her forehead. “Go back to sleep.”

“Be careful.” Her eyes are still half-closed, but there’s worry in them.

I smile at her. “Always.”

I shower and dress in one of my suits. It’s light gray, a white shirt, and no tie. It’s appropriate enough for the city on a weekday but not so formal I’ll stand out. The whole time, my mind is running through the meeting ahead. Stephen found something last night and texted me at midnight with a cryptic “we need to talk ASAP.” Whatever it is, it’s big enough he wouldn’t put it in writing.

When I head downstairs, the house is quiet. Most of the staff doesn’t start until nine, and it’s barely seven now. I can hear Mrs. Ivanova—our cook—softly moving about in the kitchen. I’m pouring myself coffee when Daniel appears in the doorway, still in his pajamas, his hair sticking up in all directions.

“Morning, solnyshko.”

“Maks!” He runs over and wraps his arms around my waist. “Are you leaving?”

“Just for a few hours. I’ll be back this afternoon.”

“But you promised we’d practice soccer today!” His face scrunches up with disappointment.

“This afternoon,” I promise, ruffling his hair. “As soon as I get back we’ll work on those penalty kicks.”

“Okay.” He pulls back, then his expression shifts to frustration. “But I can’t practice without my ball. It’s still in the garage under the car!”

Oh, right. He’d been playing out there yesterday afternoon while I was on calls and left his favorite soccer ball under the backup SUV. He mentioned it at dinner and again at bedtime. And apparently he’s still thinking about it.

“I’ll get it for you when I get back,” I tell him, draining my mug.

“Can you get it now?” He’s bouncing on his toes, impatient in the way only seven-year-olds can be. “Please? I want to practice dribbling before breakfast!”

I sigh, not wanting to be frustrated. “I need to leave in about ten minutes, Danya. Can’t you go get it yourself?”

His face transforms with genuine terror. “Nooo! There are spiders in the garage! Big ones with long legs! I saw one yesterday and it ran right at me!”

I suppress a smile. “Then you’re very brave for playing out there at all.”

“Maks, I’m serious!” He’s practically whining now. “They’re huge! And fast!”