Page 80 of The Secret Heir Next Door

Iarrive at the office the next morning amped on anticipation. Last night with Serena was incredible despite Chaz’s unwelcome interruption. I can’t stop thinking about how she looked at me, how she trusted me, and how her lips felt against mine.

But as much as I want to dwell on those memories, I need to focus. There’s work to be done, deals to close, and a company to run.

I push open the office's glass doors, greeted by the familiar hum of activity. The reception area is as pristine as always, the floor-to-ceiling windows letting in the morning sunlight. My assistant, Grace, looks up from her desk as I walk in.

Normally, she’s all business, greeting me with a quick rundown of my schedule for the day. But today, there’s something different in her expression. She looks... hesitant.

“Morning, Grace,” I say, keeping my tone casual. “What’s on the agenda for today?”

She hesitates, fiddling with a stack of papers on her desk. “Good morning, Mr. Pierce. Before we go over your schedule, there’s something you need to see.”

I narrow my eyes, catching the unease in her voice. “What is it?”

She glances around as if making sure no one else is listening, then lowers her voice. “Have you checked social media this morning?”

I frown. “Not yet. Why? What’s going on?”

Grace bites her lip and then pulls out her phone. She taps the screen a few times before handing it to me. “It’s about last night. There are some… articles circulating. They’ve been spreading quickly.”

I take the phone from her, my stomach tightening as I scroll through the screen. The first headline hits me like a punch to the gut: *“CEO Logan Pierce Spotted with Mystery Woman: Gold Digger or New Flame?” * Below it is a picture of Serena and me from last night, our kiss outside the restaurant captured in perfect clarity.

My mind races as I process the implications. It only gets worse as I scroll down, reading more headlines: *Who is Serena Mitchell? The Broke Party Planner Looking for a Rich Savior,” * and *“Logan Pierce’s Latest Arm Candy: A Businesswoman or a Social Climber?” *

“Unbelievable,” I mutter under my breath, growing angrier as I scroll through the comments.

The article is filled with baseless speculation, twisted half-truths, and outright lies. They’re painting Serena as some kind of opportunist, someone who’s only interested in me for my money.

And it’s not just the articles; it’s the comments, too. People who don’t even know her are tearing her apart, making judgments based on a single photograph.

“There are some people defending her,” Grace says softly, her voice pulling me back to the present. “But... for the most part, it’s pretty negative.”

I can feel the heat rising in my chest, my anger simmering just beneath the surface. Serena doesn’t deserve this. She’s hardworking, independent, and the last person to chase after someone for their money. She’s proud of what she’s built with her business, and now these vultures are trying to tear it all down based on nothing more than gossip.

“Grace, get in touch with someone from our PR team,” I say, my voice firm. “I want all of this taken down. Every article, every post. I don’t care how they do it—just make it happen.”

She nods, already pulling out her phone to make the necessary calls. “I’ll take care of it right away, Mr. Pierce.”

“Thank you,” I say, handing her phone back to her. “And Grace?”

She looks up at me, waiting.

“Don’t let anyone else in on this unless absolutely necessary. I don’t want this blowing up any more than it already has.”

“Of course,” she replies, her expression serious. “I’ll keep it discreet.”

As Grace hurries off to make the calls, I reach for my phone and dial Brant’s number. He picks up after the first ring.

“Logan,” he says, sounding like he’s already been up for hours. “What’s up?”

“I’m assuming you’ve seen the headlines?” I ask, not bothering with pleasantries.

“Yeah, I saw them. It’s a mess, man. I didn’t expect them to go after her like this.”

“Neither did I,” I admit, running a hand through my hair in frustration. “But they have, and we need to do something about it. I can’t let them drag Serena’s name through the mud.”

“I’ve already got my team looking into it,” he says. “We’re tracking down the sources of the articles, trying to figure out who leaked that photo. This kind of thing doesn’t just happen on its own—someone had to have tipped them off.”

“Chaz,” I say, the name slipping out before I can stop it.

---