Page 278 of Secret Heir For The Billionaire Twin

Julian looks at me over Theo’s head with tears in his eyes. He does not need to say anything. I see exactly what the word means to him. I move closer and wrap one arm around both of them.

The candlelight flickers across the garden while Theo stays tucked between us, Julian’s hand resting at the back of his head and my engagement ring catching the light near Julian’s shoulder.

This morning, my name sat beneath a story that finally belonged to me. Tonight, the two parts of my life I once believed could never exist safely in the same place are standing in my arms.

Not because the past somehow fixed itself.

Because we chose what came next.

Epilogue

Sophie

One year later, our house in Bel Air is full.

The property still feels new enough that I occasionally catch myself noticing details I chose months ago as if I am seeing them for the first time. The wide glass doors that open onto the terrace, the garden spilling down toward the lawn, the pool reflecting the late-afternoon light, and the way the entire back of the house seems designed to pull everyone outside. It is elegant because anything Julian touches seems to end up elegant whether he means it to or not, but it is also warm, lived in, and unmistakably ours.

Theo is responsible for most of that.

His shoes are near the back door. His school bag is hanging over the wrong chair. There is a half-finished project on one end of the kitchen island and a soccer ball abandoned beside one of the terrace steps. My office is tucked into the quieter side of the house overlooking the garden, while Julian has a workspace of his own upstairs and has made it very clear that he has no intention of turning our home into another Blackwell headquarters.

Today, nobody is working anyway.

The family is in California for an event at the Blackwell research facility, which somehow turned into dinner at our house with nearly everyone we love. It is the first time we have all been in the same place since the wedding, and judging by the noise coming through the open doors, no one intends to waste it.

Maya and Tom are outside with the twins. Emma arrived with Chad, the man she complains about constantly and smiles at the second he walks into a room. Adrian and Elena are here together and have finally stopped pretending there is anything ambiguous about them. Katherine is sitting with my mother, Diane, beneath the covered terrace, and somewhere during the past year, the two of them became friends independent of us.

Richard stands beside the kitchen island while I arrange glasses on a tray.

“You are carrying too much,” he says.

I glance down. “It is six glasses.”

“It is six glasses and a bottle.”

“I think I can manage.”

He reaches for the bottle anyway.

“Humor an old man.”

I hand it over.

His relationship with Julian is better now. Not perfect, and neither of them pretends otherwise, but Richard has finally learned that being included does not mean being in charge. Theo has helped with that. At least for now, he could not care less about the Blackwell name unless someone is explaining why it is written across a building.

Richard looks through the open doors toward the lawn.

“That boy has a good arm.”

I follow his gaze.

Theo is throwing a football with Adrian and Tom while the twins chase anything that gets past them. Adrian sends one of Theo’s throws back too high, earning an indignant shout from across the yard.

Richard laughs. “He is blaming Adrian.”

“He is probably right.”

“Usually is.”