BILLIONARE SECRET's SON

SEATLLE SKYLINE

SEATTLE SKYLINE

January, 2014

From Heathrow, the journey to Seattle–Tacoma wasn't just a matter of eleven hours. For Lucien, the distance felt like a long, endless tunnel—plus a short layover in Amsterdam that forced him to jog through the airport, holding his suitcase with one hand, Elias securely pressed against Lucien's chest in a soft, structured carrier, and a blue bag of baby supplies slung over his shoulder. The child was sleeping soundly on his chest, his tiny head bobbing gently as Lucien hurried through the immigration line.

His tiny head bobbed gently every time Lucien rushed through the immigration queue.

This was a first for Lucien. Not because he had never flown before. Lucien certainly had, always had, but not public ones—he was used to his private jet, a limited-edition Rolls-Royce Phantom Airliner, a gift from his father at the age of ten for his international fencing victory. The jet was covered in luxurious leather, with seats that could transform into mini-bedrooms, a minibar stocked with rare drinks, and even an entertainment system that could stream his favorite anime. Its hull was emblazoned with his initials, always ready to take him anywhere—Salzburg, Paris, even Tokyo to hunt for the latest anime figurines and games.

But America? Seattle, public transportation? This was a first for the teenager. A first that made him feel forever small in a world that was foreign and new to him. He felt a little regretful about going against his father, but it was offset by a lot of courage in maintaining his pride as a young father.

When they finally entered the transatlantic plane, Lucien's body felt like it had been hit by a rock. The cabin itself smelled faintly of a mix of cleaning carpets, reheated instant food, and the perfume of the crowded economy-class passengers.

The cabin lights were dim, only thin blue stripes on the ceiling gave the illusion of an artificial night. The engine roared, steady but piercing, occasionally vibrating violently as the wings pierced through the clouds. Elias was restless. His small cries were soft, then suddenly burst as the plane began to climb. His ears ached, and his tiny hands pounded against Lucien's chest.

“Da—aaa… daaaaaaahhh!”his screams were hoarse.

Lucien panicked. His heart pounded, his face heated, and the hands around Elias stiffened but held him. He gently patted the boy's back, murmuring inaudibly:

“It's alright, Elias… it's alright…Daddy is here, my dear boy..."

She didn't even know she could ask for a bassinet, the small bed usually installed in the passenger seat. But even if she did, she probably still wouldn't have given it up. Something inside her, filled with an almost irrational paranoia of loss, made her refuse to let Elias go even by an inch.

It wasn't that he had ever experienced loss. No, it was that the teenager thought he had seen an American movie showing a missing child being handed over to a flight attendant. Then the scene turned horrific for Lucien, causing him to hug Elias tightly.

An Asian-looking flight attendant approached, leaning across the narrow aisle to be eye-level with Elias, who was in Lucien's arms. A faint smile framed her tired face. "Sir, may I help you?" she asked softly.

Lucien just shook his head quickly. His cheeks heated, his voice drowned out by the roar of the engine. He trusted the flight attendant's gentleness. But handing Elias over? No. He whispered softly, with tears in his eyes: "No... thank you."

The middle-aged woman in the chair across from her leaned in, her voice soft and full of experience.

“Try rubbing his back, boy. Slow… steady… babies can feel the rhythm.” Then the middle-aged woman introduced herself gently:

"Just call me Angeline or mam, whatever makes you comfortable, boy." Then she turned to Elias who was still fussing in Lucien's arms, "For you little boy, you may call me 'Nana.'"

Lucien finally tried. His movements were stiff, but his intentions were sincere. Elias's cries subsided briefly, then erupted again every time the plane shook slightly. Several passengers glanced over—some annoyed, others empathetic.

An old man even smiled faintly as he said, “Relax, boy. You'll be a good elder brother…”

"I'm not, sir. I am his father..." Lucien whispered

"Wow, that means you're truly amazing, Boy..." The old man smiled, his smile warming Lucien. It reminded him of Harrington's smile that still lingered at the Manor. It made him miss his father, Duke Alexander, even for a moment.

Just as Lucien was about to give up, tears began to stream down his cheeks, which he slowly wiped away. What if Elias was sick? What if his fussing could drive his little toddler away? He thought, a raw worry that had no definitive theory in any of the international journals he had read.

Then another flight attendant came, her face soft, half Asian and part probably American, carrying a pair of blue earplugs, specifically for toddlers.

“Here, let's try this,” he said quietly. Lucien stared at the flight attendant in surprise and disbelief, but took it anyway. He carefully placed it in Elias's ear.

Elias's crying stopped instantly. His flushed cheeks now lit up with a smile, his blue eyes sparkling.

"Daaaaa... daaaa! No hurtsssss!"His lisp was broken, but clear for a toddler who was not yet two years old.

The surrounding passengers chuckled, "Aaaaah, look at that little cute boy smiling, so cute..." some of them said. Some even clapped their hands softly and softly. Lucien smiled too, though his eyes were puffy with relief. He stared at Elias for a long time. The child, in a sea of ​​strangers, could laugh only because of his father's embrace, which he always trusted as an anchor for his small body.

And for Lucien himself, though only seventeen, he was finally beginning to truly realize what it meant to be a father: to care for, to embrace, to refuse the world the chance to touch anything he held so tightly.

Seattle, January 2014...

The plane began to descend. Lucien pressed his forehead against the small window, taking a deep breath. Below him, Seattle stretched out like a painting of a city he had never seen in real life. Tall buildings reflected the light of the thin raindrops trickling down the cabin glass, while the Space Needle stood tall, as if awaiting their arrival. The Puget Sound shimmered in the distance, small boats bobbing slowly along, and the pine forests on the outskirts framed the urban landscape with a soothing green.

On his chest, Elias stirred, his tiny blue eyes staring out at the world from the soft-structured carrier. His cries were small, slurred, breaking occasionally as the wind pushing against the plane's wings shook his tiny body.

“Yeee… Setleeee… Dadaaaa… Setleh!” said Elias, his lisp broken, but clearly audible to the teenager who was holding back his own pounding heart.

Lucien patted Elias on the back, soothingly with a trembling voice:

“Almost there, my boy…almost there…”

The cabin lights were dim, the scent of carpet cleaner and instant food mingled with the passengers' perfume. Lucien's body was tired, but his eyes were burning, every second feeling like the first breath of freedom. He felt small—not just because of the cramped cabin, but because of the distance between him and the world of Manor. This new world, Seattle, awaited them below.

Suddenly the captain's voice came through the loudspeaker:

"Ladies and gentlemen, we are beginning our descent into Seattle–Tacoma International Airport. Weather is chilly, light rain expected. Please ensure your seatbelts are fastened, tray tables up, and carry-on items secured. On behalf of the crew, thank you for flying with us."

Lucien nodded faintly. A light rain began to fall from the window, reflecting off the wet streetlights of the glistening airport. People on the ground seemed small, vehicles moved slowly, and each step the plane took down the runway was like its own heartbeat—fast, pounding, full of anticipation.

He looked down at Elias, still clinging to his chest. The baby was staring out the window, his tiny hands clenched, as if feeling the first tremors of their new city. Lucien smiled weakly, holding back a mixture of relief and fear: they had truly landed in Seattle. A new city, a new life, all in their hands. That little family.

As soon as the plane door opened, Lucien stepped out, his feet barely touching the ground from a mixture of nervousness and awe. He stared out at the expansive terminal—glass lamps reflecting the morning light, electronic information boards gleaming, passengers running or pushing trolleys, airport staff swiftly attending to arrivals. Every new sound, step, and smell pierced his consciousness like the first ripple of a wave crashing against a small ship.

One teenager, one toddler on his chest, setting foot in a new world. Lucien jogged through the crowd, his eyes constantly scanning the signs for rental cars, currency exchange booths, and exits to the city. He pulled some money from his jacket pocket, exchanged pounds from his expensive wallet—about $3,000, enough for their first trip to Seattle. Then he combed through the ATM, entering the code and PIN, checking the balance. $40,000, it seemed like a large sum, but for him it was now an anchor of security and freedom in this strange city.

Her eyes lit up as she swept around the airport. Seattle's population was diverse, faces from all walks of life, people in formal suits and casual hoodies walking side by side. The modern terminal felt warm, the strong aroma of coffee wafting from the coffee shop near the exit enticed, the large screen displaying the flight schedule—it all felt foreign, challenging, and alluring to a teenager breathing the air of Seattle, a city in the American state of Washington, D.C., for the first time.

Every now and then he spoke to Elias, giving himself encouragement as well:

"Elias... our adventure starts now."

“Yeeee… Setleee, pen pen!!” Elias replied in a slurred voice, his tiny hands kicking the air, as if sharing in their first euphoria in a new city.

“Adventure, my boy, not pen pen…” Lucien smiled, correcting Elias. He occasionally kissed the top of his son’s head, inhaling the scent of toddler shampoo that still held traces of Ashford Manor.

Lucien took a deep breath and gently patted Elias's back. A faint smile spread across his face, his chest pounding with tension and happiness, the only sign that the two of them, father and son, had truly begun a new life. Leaving behind the fame and order of the Manor to set foot in a world of their own choosing, under the bright, promising skies of Seattle.

Amidst the bustle of Seattle's terminal, a symphony of human beings and glass lights, a familiar figure broke through the crowd—Angelina, with a smile that could soothe any anxiety, and her sturdy son, gazing warmly at them. "Hey, young boy…" she greeted, softly yet with a sense of home.

“Mom…” Lucien whispered, his voice half-drowned amidst the hum of suitcase wheels and flight announcements. He stood awkwardly, his body slightly stiff, cradling his son in his arms. His eyes scanned the terminal, searching for a point of reference in a world that suddenly felt so vast and unfamiliar.

Angelina leaned in, her warm hand brushing against Lucien's fingers, as if offering a silent prayer. "Where are you going, Young Boy?" she asked, her eyes shining with genuine concern. Lucien simply shrugged—the most honest answer for someone struggling to find their way in a strange city.

“My son has an apartment in Seattle, on Capitol Hill,” Angelina said, her eyes sparkling, as bright as a streetlight on a rainy night. “We can drive you there.”

“Yes, let us take you,” added his son, a boy about the same age as Lucien’s father. He shook Lucien’s hand warmly, and the formal greeting quickly changed.

“Call me Uncle Eddy,” Eddy’s smile widened, reminding Lucien of the warmth of his father, Duke Alexander.

“What’s your name?” Angelina asked, her fingers still tight around Lucien’s hand.

“Lucien, Mam… just Lucien,” she answered, softly but firmly.

They stepped out, driving through the city, which was beginning to pulsate with its urban rhythm. Through the car window, Seattle danced before Lucien's eyes: tree-lined streets, small cafes wafting with the aroma of warm coffee, modern boutiques nestled alongside historic buildings. Elias, on his lap, patted the car window, his eyes shining—the pure enthusiasm of a child experiencing the new pulse of the city.

Upon arriving at the apartment, their eyes fell upon a small wooden sign that read “Midnight Bar,” hanging on the left side of the building, just above the short staircase that led down to the ground floor—a warm bar, where students often gathered, laughed, and finished their assignments. The faint aroma of burgers and toast wafted in, blending with the clinking of glasses and soft music, welcoming each visitor as they entered from the sidewalk, while their apartment awaited them upstairs.

The apartment itself is on the third floor. Warm and tidy, it's fully furnished: two bedrooms, hardwood floors that reflect the afternoon light, and large windows that open up to panoramic views of Capitol Hill. The living room features a plush sofa, a flat-screen TV, and a coffee table; the kitchen is fully equipped with a refrigerator, stove, and a small dining table with chairs; and the bedrooms have built-in wardrobes and bookshelves filled with novels and journals.

Eddy turned the key to the apartment. Angelina entered first, while Lucien scanned the room with a careful glance—his eyes sparkling, but his heart weighing each step. The two-bedroom apartment made him start calculating: a typical rent like this might be a thousand, two thousand, or even four thousand USD. His mind was ready to say no if the price was too high.

“How much is the rent?” he asked softly, careful calculations still occupying every corner of his mind.

Angelina smiled, patting the back of his hand.

“Pay me back in two months, dear. A thousand USD is enough for you. Consider it a small gift for your new beginning.”

Lucien took a deep breath and gently patted Elias on the back. A faint smile spread across his face, as serene as the surface of an autumn lake. A new city, a new apartment, a new life—it all felt heavy, yet alluring, like the gentle Seattle rain that falls, caressing his skin and soul, leaving a soft yet unforgettable trail. In the corner of his heart, a small promise lingered: to look after his son, as he had looked after himself, through each of their first steps in Seattle.

Shortly after they settled into the apartment, Eddy's phone vibrated. He smiled lightly, his eyes sparkling as serenely as the surface of a morning lake, and then picked up the phone.

“Ronnald, it’s me. There are new residents in my apartment. Can I take them down to your bar for a bit?” Her voice was warm, light, without being pushy.

A few minutes later, Lucien carried Elias and followed Eddy and Angelina down the stairs to the ground floor. The aroma of burgers, toast, and hot coffee greeted them. The bar lights reflected off the neatly arranged glasses, while soft music mingled with the clink of coins from the Pac-Man jukebox in the corner, adding to the cheerful rhythm of a typical student bar. Students laughed, occasionally tapping the tables and taking notes, adding to the warm, slightly chaotic rhythm.

Eddy patted Lucien's shoulder gently, his smile spreading with confidence. "Ronnald, this is Lucien, my apartment's new resident."

Ronnald turned, his eyes warm but wary, a small smile forming at the corners of his lips. He stepped forward and greeted Lucien with a firm handshake. “Nice to meet you, Lucien. What’s your last name?”

Lucien stared for a moment, slightly lowering his head, his voice low, hiding his identity as the Young Duke of Ashford: “I'm an orphan, sir...”

Suddenly, Elias, who was being carried, screamed loudly, his voice piercing through the clinking of glasses and music:

“Opaaaaana! Opaan!!”

“Shhh, Elias…” Lucien crossed his finger over his son’s lips, but Elias only smiled amusedly, his eyes sparkling with joy. Lucien blushed, looking around, hearing the laughter of the students erupting throughout the bar. The warm lights reflected off their faces, glasses clinked, the clinking of the Pac-Man jukebox added a cheerful rhythm, and the laughter seemed to be a friendly greeting to the new city. Eddy chuckled, patting Lucien’s shoulder again, joining in the small moment.

Ronnald leaned forward slightly, his gaze friendly, his smile genuine.

“If you want, Lucien, you can help out at the bar. Deliver drinks, food—and don’t worry, you can bring Elias. He’s a cute kid, everyone will be happy if he comes along.”

Lucien smiled, looking down at Elias, who was now bouncing in his arms. The warm atmosphere, the smell of burgers and coffee, the laughter of students, and the bar lights reflecting off the glasses—all of it surrounded them. For the first time since arriving in Seattle, he felt a sense of new beginnings—light, fun, and full of possibility—in the midst of a student bar that pulsed with a lively, slightly chaotic, but very human energy.

April, 2014

April came without warning, like Seattle raindrops that suddenly hit the windowpane without warning. Lucien had been living in apartment 315 on Capitol Hill for almost two months. By now, the routine had settled into a neat pattern, though always punctuated by small surprises from Elias.

On a small table near the window, his laptop was open, displaying layers of code and graphs. Lucien was working as a freelance programmer—fixing small app bugs, writing simple scripts, or designing simple interfaces for foreign clients he'd never even met.

Every now and then, he'd get a late-night email from someone in Chicago or perhaps even Seattle itself, and to him, it was the same: a logical challenge he could conquer with his fingers dancing across the keyboard. Afterward, at eight in the morning, Lucien would deliver pizzas and then resume his shift at the bar. He did everything for the sake of their life together in this city.

But the morning always began with Elias. At six o'clock, the toddler was sitting on his little wooden stool, his dinosaur pajamas crumpled, his blond hair a mess, as if twirled by the night wind. Before him, Lucien had prepared a glass of warm milk and some simple biscuits. Around him, Elias's little kingdom was taking shape: cows, cats, and plastic dogs lined up, awaiting his command.

Elias held his toy cow high in the air, chewing on a biscuit with his cheeks full. The crumbs fell to the table, but his wide smile remained. “Moooo!”

Lucien glanced up from behind his laptop, raising an eyebrow, his lips curling into the lopsided smile typical of someone who pretends to be lazy but is actually amused. “Is that a cow? Very clever.”

With sparkling eyes, Elias immediately reached for the little orange cat, holding it up like a championship trophy. “Meow, meow! Kitty!”

Lucien closed his laptop for a moment, his face turning overly serious, his tone like a judge about to strike the gavel. “Oh, so Elias owns a zoo now?”

The toddler chuckled, his teeth still covered in cookie crumbs, then grabbed the plastic dog with a dramatic gesture, as if introducing the final important character. “Woof, woof! Woof!”

Lucien shook his head slowly, leaning back in the creaking wooden chair. His faint smile returned. “Great… now there’s a dog too. Don’t tell me there’ll be dinosaurs.”

As if the world was in on the joke, Elias grabbed the small dinosaur from under the table and lifted it as high as he could, its shrill screams piercing the cramped space.

“ROAAAR!!”

Lucien immediately slapped his forehead, laughing softly while covering his face with his palms, pretending to be desperate—but the corners of his lips couldn't help but smile.

“Knew it.”

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