Page 23 of Secret Heir

I leave Aria’s suite with the red mark of her hand still burning on my cheek and the word monster echoing in my skull.

Fine. Let her think I’m a monster. Let her hate me. It doesn’t change the facts. Daniel is my son, and he’s staying here where he’ll be safe and fed and cared for.

Where he’ll never have to hoard food in his pockets or wonder where his next meal is coming from.

That’s what matters. Not what Aria thinks of me or the secrets she’s keeping. Or the eight years she stole from us.

My son matters. Only my son.

I go to my office and close myself in, pulling up the security feeds on my computer.

The suite where Aria and Daniel are staying has cameras in the sitting room only, and I watch as Aria sits on the sofa with her face in her hands.

She’s crying. Shoulders shaking, body curled in on itself like she’s trying to disappear.

Good.

No. I shake my head. Not good. I don’t want her crying or broken. I want her to understand what she’s done, and admit she was wrong⁠—

I close the laptop harder than necessary.

This isn’t productive. I need to focus on Daniel, on building a relationship with my son. Aria and her secrets can wait.

The first few days are harder than I expected.

Daniel is scared shitless of me. It’s written in every line of his small body when I enter their suite in the mornings. He immediately moves closer to Aria, and his hand finds hers. Those familiar gray eyes watch me with the wariness of a prey animal.

I’ve seen that look before on men who knew I was about to hurt them. Those people understood exactly what I was capable of and feared it.

I’ve never seen it on a child. I never wanted to see it on my own son.

It makes my stomach feel sour and my heart clench every time.

On the second morning, I bring breakfast again.

Daniel eats more slowly this time, but he still hoards food and slips his contraband into his pockets when he thinks I’m not looking.

Aria watches with guilt written across her face, but she doesn’t meet my eyes.

“Daniel,” I say when he’s finished eating. “Would you like to see the pool?”

He looks at Aria immediately as if seeking permission. Or protection.

“It’s okay,” she tells him softly, even though her hand tightens on his shoulder. “You can go.”

He chews on his bottom lip. “Will you come?” he asks uncertainly.

“Not this time, Danny boy.” She gently tweaks his nose and Daniel briefly smiles. “But I’ll be right here when you get back. I promise.”

He doesn’t look convinced, but he nods.

The pool is on the east side of the house, with an infinity edge overlooking the ocean. The water is heated, crystal clear, and surrounded by limestone and comfortable loungers. It’s mid-June, but the air is still cool and my son shivers slightly. He stands at the edge in the navy blue swim trunks I had bought for him and stares at the water like it might swallow him whole.

“Do you know how to swim?” I ask.

He shakes his head and wraps his arms around himself. My lips tighten. Of course he doesn’t. Swimming lessons cost money. Money Aria didn’t have because she was too stubborn to ask for help.

“I’ll teach you.” I crouch down so I’m at his level. “I promise I won’t let anything happen to you. Okay?”