The Duty Of The Heir (Book 3): A Surprise Pregnancy Romance (The Heir’s Series 5)
The Duty Of The Heir (Book 3): Chapter 35

Knoxville

The kitchen buzzes with the combined energy of three women, each immersed in her world. Mariah, with her enthusiastic zest for everything modern, swipes through digital images of homes. Trina, my ever-practical aunt, weighs the pros and cons, her glasses perched low on her nose. And me? I’m searching for something subtle, and elegant. Maybe a touch of gray.

They’d been over at my place earlier, and let’s just say, Aunt Trina wasn’t exactly thrilled with any of the options.

Mariah, on the other hand, was all for a house with double garages, but Aunt Trina couldn’t get over the design.

Mariah turns to me, her eyes hopeful. ‘What about you, Simone? What do you like?’

I’m scrolling through more listings, undecided. ‘Still not sure,’ I admit, a bit overwhelmed.

Mariah lets out a sigh. ‘You too, huh?’

I can’t help but smile a little. ‘Let’s keep looking.’

As I’m swiping through the options, Aunt Trina’s hand shoots out, stopping me. ‘Hold on. That gray one there, what do you think?’

I take a moment, looking at it. ‘It’s not bad. Worth a look inside, maybe.’

Mariah jumps in, disbelief in her voice. ‘Are you kidding? It looks ancient. Why settle for that?’

Before Mariah can roll her eyes again, my phone vibrates loudly against the granite countertop. I glance down to see Leonard’s name flashing. A rush of annoyance fills me. Why does he always have the worst timing?

Mariah sees the caller ID and grimaces. ‘Ugh, him again?’

‘Good luck with that,’ Mariah says with a sneer. ‘Can’t stand his voice.’

Aunt Trina’s brow furrows. ‘Why’s he calling you?’

‘Just checking in, I guess. I really don’t want to talk to him,’ I confess, feeling a knot in my stomach.

Mariah’s face darkens. ‘I can’t stand him.’

I sigh, ‘I’m really not up for this today.’

Aunt Trina offers her two cents. ‘You don’t have to answer, dear. Let it go to voicemail. You don’t owe him your time.’

She’s right. I let the phone ring out.

Mariah’s already brainstorming. ‘Can you fire him or something? He’s unbearable. Honestly, Simone, you should cut ties with Leonard. It’ll save you a world of drama.’

I nod, remembering my conversation with Ms. Anne. ‘We talked about it. She said I could report him to Duke.’

‘So do it,’ Mariah urges, her voice firm.

But Aunt Trina cuts in. Her gaze is steady, her wisdom evident in every line of her face. ‘Be patient. Things have a way of falling into place.’

The weight of her words sinks in. She’s hinting at something larger, a bigger picture I’m yet to see. So, with renewed resolve, I nod.

Leonard can wait.

For now, I have a house to pick and secrets to unravel.

The call finally stops, and a voicemail pops up. I let it sit there, unopened, a small act of defiance.

The gray of the evening matches the heaviness in my heart as Leonard’s voice plays on the voicemail, his words dripping with an insincerity I’ve come to loathe. Why would Duke use him as a mouthpiece? Why the sudden chasm between us?

But then, he mentions the big word STOP, and a surge of sorrow and shock sweeps through me, leading to tears that I just can’t hold back.

‘It can’t be real, Aunty,’ I choke out through sobs. ‘If Duke had something to say, he’d call me himself. I just know it.’

Aunt Trina looks at me, her eyes a pool of empathy and concern. ‘He did pass the message through Leonard.”

‘But why? Why wouldn’t he call me himself?’ I ask, my voice breaking. The confusion and hurt are too much. ‘Why?’

She sighs, her voice gentle yet uncertain. ‘I don’t know, Simone.’

‘He should call me, shouldn’t he?’ I press on, more to convince myself than anything. ‘He really should.’

‘Yes, he should. Even his mother can’t get through to him. She thinks he might be at church or something,’ Aunt Trina adds, trying to piece things together.

‘The church?’ It sounds so absurd, so unlike the Duke I’ve come to know.

Mariah’s brow is furrowed, her concern evident. ‘What could be going on?’

‘We don’t know yet. We just have to wait and see,’ Aunt Trina says, her tone calm but firm.

‘I won’t stop until I hear from him,’ I vow, with determination cutting through my tears. ‘He can’t just walk away now. Not after everything.’

Mariah turns to her mother, confusion on her face. ‘Mom, do you have any idea what’s happening?’

Aunt Trina shakes her head. ‘I’m as clueless as you. This was unexpected.’

Mariah’s mind races. ‘Could Aisling have found out something?’

‘It’s possible. I can’t rule it out,’ Aunt Trina admits.

‘But how?’ Mariah presses, seeking answers.

My heart rate quickens at the possibility, the ramifications of Aisling’s knowledge threatening to topple the fragile world I’ve built around Duke and me.

‘I don’t think Aisling knows anything,’ I interject, trying to stay hopeful.

Sensing my anxiety, Aunt Trina reaches for my hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. ‘There’s still his grand aunt. If things really spiral, she might be our beacon.’

Her words offer a sliver of hope, yet the uncertainty gnaws at me. The room grows silent, punctuated

‘So, should we call her now?’ I ask, eager for a solution.

‘No, wait. Let Anne talk to her first,’ she instructs with authority.

I take a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heart. The uncertainty is overwhelming, but I know I need to be patient and hold on to hope.