Page 268 of Secret Heir For The Billionaire Twin

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By Saturday evening, Sophie’s townhouse is full in a way that feels familiar to everyone except me. Emma comes by with food, Maya and Tom arrive with the twins, and for a few hours the house settles into the easy rhythm of people who have known each other long enough not to perform for one another. I mostly listen, stepping in where I can without trying to force myself into a place that is still new.

What matters is not the conversation. It is the fact that no one treats my presence like an emergency anymore.

Emma still watches me carefully, but there is less suspicion in it now. Maya does not soften simply because I am Theo’s father, yet she no longer looks at me as if I am one bad decision away from disappearing. I have not earned complete trust from either of them, but I have earned enough that they let me stand inside the life Sophie built without questioning every movement.

Theo spends most of the evening moving between the living room and the kitchen with the twins, more interested in them than in any of the adults. Every so often, he checks where I am without making a point of it. I notice because a few weeks ago he did not expect me to be anywhere at all.

Later, as the evening starts to wind down, Maya reminds Sophie that she and Tom are taking Theo with the twins for the rest of the weekend. They already have plans the next morning, and Theo has been talking about the trip for days.

Sophie walks them to the door while Theo disappears upstairs to grab the overnight bag he packed earlier.

When he comes back down, he hugs Sophie first, then looks at me.

“See you Sunday?”

“I’ll be here,” I tell him.

Theo nods, satisfied, and follows the twins outside.

Emma leaves a few minutes later, and Maya gives Sophie one last look before she and Tom head toward the car with the kids.

Then the front door closes and the house becomes quiet almost immediately. Sophie stays near the entryway for a moment before turning toward me. For the first time all evening, there is no one else in the house. Just us.

She walks into the living room and lowers herself onto the sofa. I sit beside her, leaving enough space that she doesn’t feel crowded, although every instinct in me is aware of exactly how close she is.

For a few moments, neither of us speaks.

Then I look at her.

“We’ve spent almost every conversation since I found out about Theo talking about him.”

Sophie nods. “We needed to.”

“I know.”

I rest my forearms against my knees and glance down at my hands before looking back at her.

“But I need you to understand something.”

Her expression shifts. “What?”

“Being his father doesn’t give me a claim on you.”

Sophie watches me carefully.

“I don’t want you trying to rebuild something with me because you feel guilty,” I continue.

“And I don’t want you convincing yourself Theo needs us to become some perfect family because that makes the last seven years easier to explain.”

Her eyes lower for a second.

“That’s part of what scares me,” she says.

“What part?”

“All of it.” Sophie leans back against the sofa and exhales.