The Billionaire’s secret Heirs

The fourth pregnancy test showed two lines.

Celine’s hand was shaking. She placed it next to the other three on the bathroom sink, as if performing some desperate ritual.

"Well?" her friend Caroline's voice came from outside the door.

Celine didn't answer. She stared at her own pale face in the mirror as panic washed over her like cold water. The art academy entrance exam was next month. It was the life she had dreamed of. Now, everything was completely ruined by these two thin red lines.

Her mother, who had always favored her older sister Jesse, would never accept this.

"Celine?"

She snapped back to reality, hastily swept the four tests into the trash, flushed the toilet, and opened the door.

"It's nothing," she forced a smile. "Probably just something I ate."

Two days later, at dinner.

"Mom, look what I found," her sister Jesse's voice was filled with the excitement of a predator cornering its prey. She was holding a plastic stick—one of the tests Celine had thrown away.

Celine’s heart sank.

"What is that?" their mother frowned.

"A pregnancy test," Jesse announced smugly, waving it. "Found it in Celine’s bathroom trash. It's positive."

Her mother's gaze shot toward Celine like a knife. "Is this true?"

"I…" Celine opened her mouth, but no words came out.

"No wonder she's gained so much weight lately," Jesse added, fanning the flames. "I just thought she couldn't control her appetite."

"Get out," their mother's voice was icy, devoid of any warmth.

Celine looked at her mother, then at her father who remained silent, and finally at the unconcealed, triumphant smirk on her sister's face. She knew there was no place for her in this home anymore.

She didn't offer another word of defense. She just stood up silently and walked out the door.

Three years later. New York, in the laundry room of "The Aurelia" hotel.

"Mommy, look! A train!" Three-year-old Caesar pushed two rolled-up towels across the floor.

"Be careful, sweetie," Celine said, quickly ironing a bedsheet. Steam blurred her face, and sweat trickled down her temple.

For three years, her friend Caroline had taken her in, until she found this job at the hotel, barely enough to support herself and her son.

"Celine," her coworker Blake walked over, lowering his voice. "You brought Caesar to work again? You'll get fired if the manager sees him."

"I know, thank you, Blake. I'll be careful," Celine said gratefully.

"What about your family? Can't they help you watch him sometimes?"

At the mention of her family, Celine's expression turned cold. "I don't have a family."

Just then, Caesar giggled and ran out of the laundry room into the hallway.

"Caesar! Come back!" Celine cried out, immediately chasing after him.

The hotel corridor was carpeted in thick, gold-patterned fabric. Caesar ran ahead like a happy little bird, with Celine chasing anxiously behind him.

At a corner, an elevator door chimed open.

Caesar couldn't stop in time and ran straight into the leg of a man who had just stepped out.

"Oh, my God!" Celine’s heart leaped into her throat.

She rushed forward, scooped her son into her arms, and checked him anxiously. "Caesar, are you okay? Did you get hurt?"

Caesar shook his head, looking up curiously at the tall man before him.

Celine breathed a sigh of relief and finally looked up to apologize.

"I'm so sorry, sir, my son…"

Her words caught in her throat the moment she saw the man's face.

He was looking down at Caesar in her arms, and his eyes… those sharp, cold blue eyes were exactly the same as her son's.