The Billionaire’s Regret: His Secret Heir Is Mine

Chapter 4

The morning after Raimen left, Leo was still sitting at the window.

His hands were empty. His tie was gone. He’d stopped asking when Daddy was coming back. He just sat there, pressing his palm against the glass, the way he’d pressed it against the motel window, the way Raimen had pressed his against the car window. His small hand left a fog print on the cold surface.

I sat beside him. The files were spread across the table. Hospital records. Financial statements. Eleanor’s name in the authorization chain on the pages that mattered most.

One signature.

One decision.

One life destroyed.

I’d read them three times. Each time, my hands shook a little less. Not from fear. From anger.

“Mommy?” Leo’s voice was quiet.

“Yes, baby.”

“Did Daddy take the tie?”

His voice was hopeful.

I swallowed. “He did.”

Leo nodded slowly.

“He’ll come back for it.”

Like the tie was a promise.

Elias knocked once at noon. Hard. Fast. The way someone knocks when they don’t have time to knock twice.

I opened the door. His face was tight.

“They’re moving,” he said. “Eleanor’s people. They lost the trail last night, but they’ve got helicopters scanning the ridges now. They’re covering ground.”

“How long until they find us?”

“The cabin was supposed to buy us more time,” Elias said. His jaw tightened. “But the helicopters changed that. A day. Maybe less.”

I looked at Leo. He was still at the window, his hand still pressed against the glass. He hadn’t moved in hours.

“Raimen,” I said. “What’s happening with him?”

Elias shook his head. “I don’t know. He’s not answering his phone.”

“Could Eleanor have—”

“I don’t know.”

He left to check the perimeter. I watched him go, then went back to the window.

Leo’s hand was still there. Waiting.

Leo fell asleep on the couch in the afternoon. I covered him with a blanket, watched his hand search for the tie that wasn’t there, and sat down with the phone.

No messages. No calls.

I thought about the last time I’d seen Raimen. The way he’d folded the tie and put it over his heart. The way his voice broke when he said he was sorry. The way he’d looked at Leo like the boy was the only thing in the world that mattered.

He’d left to protect him. And now he was gone.

My phone buzzed. I grabbed it.

UNKNOWN NUMBER: Miss Vance. I know where Raimen is.

I stared at the screen.

JISA: Who is this?

Three dots appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again.

UNKNOWN NUMBER: My name is Julian Croft. I’m Raimen’s lawyer. He asked me to contact you if you didn’t hear from him by noon.

My hands were shaking.

JISA: Where is he?

UNKNOWN NUMBER: He went to the District Attorney’s office this morning. There was a warrant waiting for him. Someone inside his mother’s circle arranged it. They seized the files. He’s being held for questioning.

The room tilted.

JISA: Can you get him out?

UNKNOWN NUMBER: I have a judge who owes Arthur Sterling a favor. Give me an hour.

I turned the phone off.

I looked at Leo. Asleep on the couch, his hand still reaching for the tie that wasn’t there.

Elias came back at sunset. I told him about the lawyer. His face didn’t change, but his hands tightened on the table.

He went still.

“There’s a reporter,” Elias said. “David Chen. Arthur trusted him. If anyone has copies of those files, it’s him.”

“Where is he?”

“In the city. He’s been sitting on the story for years. Waiting.”

“For what?”

Elias was quiet for a long moment. His jaw tightened.

“For permission. Arthur told him not to publish while Raimen was still under Eleanor’s control. He said the story would destroy the family, and Raimen wasn’t ready to survive that. He was waiting for someone to come who was.”

Leo woke. He came to the table, rubbing his eyes. He looked at me, then at Elias, then at the empty spot where the tie used to be.

“Did Daddy come back?” he asked. His voice was small.

“Not yet, baby.”

He nodded. He went back to the window. His small hand pressed against the glass again. Waiting.

Elias watched him. “If we go to the city, we leave the safety of the cabin.”

“The cabin isn’t safe anymore. The helicopters are coming.”

“If we leave now, we’re exposed.”

I looked at Leo. At his hand on the glass.

“If we stay, she finds us. If we go to Chen, maybe we end this before she does.”

Elias was quiet for a long moment. His jaw tightened. Then he nodded. “We leave tonight.”

We were in Elias’s car an hour later. Mira in the back with Leo. Me in the front. No lights. No radio. Just the engine and the dark road winding down the mountain.

I watched the mirrors. Every pair of headlights looked like Eleanor’s men.

Elias drove without speaking. That scared me more than if he had.

“How did Eleanor know to look for us at the cabin?” I said.

“She didn’t. She was searching the mountains. The cabin was hidden, but the helicopters were covering ground. It was only a matter of time.”

“And now? Going to the city?”

“Chen’s building is in a neighborhood Eleanor doesn’t control. Not fully. She has people there, but so does he. He’s been preparing for this for years.”

I looked out the window. The trees were thinning. The sky was lightening.

The sun came up over the city as we drove into it.

Elias parked a block away from a building that looked like every other building on the block. Old brick. Fire escape. A coffee shop on the ground floor.

“David Chen is on the fourth floor,” Elias said. “I’ll go with you.”

“No.” I looked at Mira. “You stay with Leo. If anything happens, you take him somewhere safe. Anywhere.”

Mira’s face was pale, but she nodded.

I looked at Leo. He was awake now, watching me. Every instinct I had screamed to take him with me. But I couldn’t.

“Mommy?” His voice was small.

I leaned in and pressed my forehead to his. “I’ll be right back, baby. I promise.”

He looked at my face for a long moment. Then he nodded. He didn’t ask me to stay.

I got out of the car. Elias walked beside me.

We crossed the street. I looked back once. Mira was holding Leo, her face turned toward us.

Leo’s hand was pressed against the window. Waiting.

The stairs were narrow, the light was weak. We climbed to the fourth floor.

I knocked on the door with the number Elias had given me.

No answer.

I knocked again.

The door opened a crack. A man’s face appeared. Dark eyes. Gray hair. Tired.

“Who are you?” he said.

“Elias Cole,” Elias said. “Arthur sent me. Years ago. He said you’d remember the photograph.”

The man’s eyes flickered. He opened the door wider.

“The one of Arthur and his father,” he said quietly. “On the steps of the courthouse.”

Elias nodded.

The man stepped aside. “I was wondering when someone would come.”

Behind him, I could see stacks of paper. File cabinets. Photographs pinned to the wall. Eleanor’s face in most of them.

“Raimen said you might have copies of the files,” I said.

David Chen gestured to the papers. “I have everything Arthur gave me. Everything I’ve found since. The story is already written. It’s been ready for years.”

“Then why haven’t you published?”

He looked at me for a long moment.

“The story is already written,” Chen said. “And Eleanor Sterling will never forgive me for it.”

He looked past me, toward the stairs.

“Arthur asked me to wait. He said Raimen wasn’t ready to survive what would happen after. He was waiting for someone to come who was.”

“That’s me,” I said.

He studied my face. “You walked down that aisle knowing Eleanor would be there. You walked out knowing she’d come for you. You’ve been running for three years, and you’re still here.” He stepped back. “Yes. That’s you.”

I called Raimen from David’s office.

He answered on the first ring.

“I’m with David Chen,” I said. “He has the files. He’s going to publish them.”

A pause. “Jisa, if you do this—”

“She comes after us either way. At least this way, everyone knows what she did. At least this way, she can’t hide.”

Another pause. Longer.

“Croft got me out,” Raimen said. “I’m on my way. Twenty minutes.”

“Your mother’s people—”

“They’re watching the building. Croft told me. They’ve had Chen under surveillance for months. They know what he has.”

I looked at David. He was already working, pulling files from cabinets, spreading documents across the table.

“We know,” I said. “They’re already here.”

Raimen’s voice tightened. “Don’t wait for me. If you can publish now, do it.”

I looked at David. “How long?”

“The article is written. The evidence is sourced. I’ve had a team of lawyers reviewing it for years.” He looked at his watch. “I can publish in five minutes.”

“Then do it.”

David hit a key. The screen glowed. Sending.

I heard the door downstairs open. Voices. Footsteps.

David’s screen said: SENT.

He stood up. He looked at me.

“Now we wait,” he said.

A floorboard creaked.

Then footsteps. Heavy. Fast. Coming up the stairs.

Elias moved to the door. “We need to hold them.”

David reached for his phone. “I have a contact at the Times. The article is out. But if they get up here before it spreads—”

“How long?” I said.

“Ten minutes. Maybe less.”

The footsteps were closer now. Two flights down.

Elias looked at me. “I’ll slow them down.”

“Elias—”

“Arthur told me to protect you. I’m doing that.”

He stepped into the hallway. I grabbed his arm. “You can’t stop them alone.”

“I can give you time.”

He pulled free. He was at the top of the stairs when the first man appeared below.

“Police are on their way,” Elias said. His voice was calm. “The article is already out. There’s nothing you can do.”

The man didn’t answer. He took a step up. Then another.

Elias stood his ground.

The man reached for his jacket. Elias didn’t move.

I saw the flash of something metal. I saw Elias step forward. I saw him grab the man’s arm.

Then I heard the sound.

A crack. A gasp. Elias staggered back. His hand went to his side. Blood.

I ran to him. He pushed me toward the door. “Get inside. Lock it.”

“Elias—”

“Do it.”

He turned back to the stairs. The man was climbing again. Two more behind him.

Elias stood in front of them, one hand pressed against his side, the other raised. He didn’t fall.

I pulled the door closed. David was already at the window, calling someone, his voice low and fast.

I pressed my back against the wood and listened.

Voices. A scuffle. A thud.

Then silence.

David pulled me away from the door. “They’re coming.”

I heard footsteps in the hall. Slow now. Deliberate.

Then the door burst open.

Three men. The one in front had blood on his sleeve. Not his.

I looked past him. Elias was on the floor in the hallway, not moving.

“No—”

David stepped in front of me. “The article is published. Every news outlet in the country has it. You’re too late.”

The man’s phone buzzed. He glanced at it. His face changed.

“The story is already out,” David said again. “You have nothing to gain by being here. Everything to lose.”

The man looked at his phone again. Then at David. Then at me.

“We’re exposed,” he said quietly. To the men behind him: “Pull everyone back.”

He turned. The three of them went back down the stairs.

I ran to the hallway. Elias was on his back, his hand pressed against his side, his face white.

“Stay with me,” I said. I pressed my jacket against the wound. His blood soaked through.

“I’m all right,” he said. His voice was weak.

“You’re not.”

David was behind me. “Ambulance is coming. Two minutes.”

I heard sirens in the street below.

Raimen was in the doorway. His shirt was torn. His lip was bleeding. He’d run through whatever was outside, pushed through whatever was in his way. He looked at Elias, then at me.

“I should have been here sooner,” he said.

“You’re here now.”

The paramedics came up the stairs. Two of them, fast, efficient. They knelt beside Elias, checked his pulse, started working.

I stood back. My hands were red.

Mira appeared in the doorway, Leo in her arms. Her face was white.

“The men outside ran,” she said. “When the police came. I saw them go.”

She set Leo down.

Leo stood in the middle of the room, his hands empty, his tie gone, his small face tilted up. He looked at the blood on the floor, at the paramedics working over Elias, at the chaos. Then he looked at Raimen.

Raimen was still standing where he’d entered. He had blood on his hands now—Elias’s blood, maybe his own. His shirt was torn. His face was bruised.

“Daddy?” Leo said.

Raimen’s face cracked. He walked toward Leo slowly, like a man approaching something he’d been searching for his whole life.

He stopped a few feet away. He didn’t touch him. He just looked.

“I’m here,” he said.

Leo studied his face. “You’re bleeding.”

Raimen touched his lip. “It’s nothing.”

“You didn’t touch the tie.”

Raimen reached into his coat. His hand was shaking. He pulled out the red tie, folded carefully, still warm from being against his heart.

“I brought it back,” he said.

Leo looked at the tie. He looked at Raimen’s face. Then he stepped forward. He pressed his palm flat against Raimen’s chest, right where the tie had been.

“You came back,” Leo said.

Raimen’s voice broke. “I told you I would.”

Leo smiled. His hand stayed where it was, small and steady.

He didn’t ask for the tie. He didn’t need it anymore.

Behind them, the paramedics lifted Elias onto a stretcher. Mira went with them, her hand on his arm. David was on the phone again, calling more reporters, making sure the story didn’t stop spreading.

I stood in the doorway of David Chen’s office, my hands still red, and watched my son hold his father’s chest.