Ashley St. Clair claims in a new documentary that Elon Musk cut her monthly child support by $80,000 after she refused a secrecy deal and publicly revealed their son.

Page Six reported that the former conservative influencer makes the charge in the documentary “Musk,” which premiered at the Venice Film Festival, describing a steep drop in payments tied to her refusal to stay quiet and her later decision to name him as the father.

St. Clair, 28, says Musk first offered a package of $15 million plus $100,000 a month in child support if she signed a nondisclosure agreement. She says she turned it down. After that refusal, she claims the monthly figure fell to $40,000. After she went public in February 2025, she says it fell again to $20,000, an $80,000 cut from the original monthly offer.

She has framed the choice in plain terms: she did not want her son, Romulus St. Clair, now 2, to grow up treated as a hidden arrangement. A rep for Musk did not immediately respond to Page Six’s request for comment.

She rejected the NDA so her son would not “feel like he’s a secret”

St. Clair has said she could not “in good conscience” sign the nondisclosure deal. She has also said she refused so her then-newborn would not “feel like he’s a secret.”

The New York Post reported further detail on that offer, including that terms were negotiated through Musk’s money manager Jared Birchall and that a New York court-ordered paternity test returned a 99.9999% probability Musk is the father, even after he had publicly questioned paternity.

Musk had previously claimed he paid St. Clair $2.5 million and said he was “not against finding out” whether he was the child’s father. The documentary account and earlier coverage put the dispute in a different light: money tied to silence, then less money after she refused silence and named him.

St. Clair’s legal team has alleged that the fight over custody and support led to a “substantial” reduction in financial help and left her facing eviction. That claim sits beside the payment figures she has given in and around the film. No full court order or payment ledger appears in the available reporting to settle every dollar amount she cites.

"I don't want my son to feel like he's a secret."

That line, tied to her talks over the deal, is the core of her public case for rejecting the package.

Relationship began on X, then moved into a custody fight

St. Clair says the relationship started in 2023 when Musk began interacting with her on X. She has described him responding often to her posts, including a Mother’s Day message in which he said she should have more children.

She recalls him pressing the point directly.

"We should have a kid. You should have so many more kids. You should have 10 kids."

St. Clair says she eventually asked what that would look like. She has also said that after she became pregnant, “things started getting weird,” and that his manner shifted after the birth.

"It was almost as if he didn’t show a certain side of himself until after I had our baby."

Fox News reported that she filed a New York Supreme Court paternity petition seeking to have Musk legally recognized as the father and to obtain full custody. She has said the child was conceived in January 2024 during a trip to St. Barts and born in September 2024. Court papers described in that coverage included alleged photos of Musk with the baby and screenshots of texts in which he reportedly discussed paternity and more children.

On X she stated the claim without hedging: “Five months ago, I welcomed a new baby into the world. Elon Musk is the father.” If established, reporting has described Romulus as Musk’s 13th child. High-profile custody fights are not limited to tech founders, as seen when Muse frontman Matthew Bellamy sought sole custody in his own family case.

Public reveal came after she said she was left on her own

St. Clair’s February 2025 decision to go public did not arrive in a vacuum. Breitbart reported on accounts that she felt jilted and terrified when tabloid interest rose and she did not get the protection she expected.

Friend Emma-Jo Morris described the sequence in blunt terms: St. Clair learned a tabloid was digging, reached out to Musk, and got the message she was on her own. Morris also pointed to the obvious pressure on a single mother tied to one of the world’s most famous and controversial men.

Personal bombshells of this kind draw the same kind of public attention as other sudden celebrity disclosures, including when Lucy Davis shared an overwhelming health diagnosis and faced a wave of response. St. Clair’s version is a parentage and money fight, not a medical one, but the glare is familiar.

At the Venice premiere of “Musk,” St. Clair added another claim: that before she gave birth, Musk texted that he wanted a “legion of children before the civil war.” The full message and its metadata have not been produced as a public document in the coverage summarized here. It remains her account.

Another child, another sudden break

Coverage of the documentary also places St. Clair’s story next to Musk’s most recent public family news. He welcomed a son, Seldon Lycurgus, with Neuralink executive Shivon Zilis, described in reporting as his 14th child. Zilis has said Musk ended their relationship “with no warning.”

St. Clair has claimed Musk may have more children than the public knows and that other women have contacted her. She has described direct messages and offers of children in language that is raw and unflattering. Those assertions are hers; independent confirmation of each alleged contact is not laid out in the source package.

Parents making hard calls about children and public rules face pressure in politics as well as entertainment, including debates after Trump moved to split the MMR vaccine and cut childhood shot recommendations. St. Clair’s fight is private-family and contractual, but it lands in the same broad lane: who decides what a child is owed, and what stays hidden.

Musk is Tesla’s CEO and a multibillionaire now 55. St. Clair is an author and former conservative influencer who says a romance that began with friendly replies on X turned into pregnancy, a rejected secrecy contract, a paternity case, and a support schedule she says collapsed after she refused to stay silent.

The documentary packages her narrative for a mass audience. The paternity test reported in New York coverage undercuts any casual denial that Romulus is his son. The payment cuts she describes, $100,000 offered monthly, then $40,000, then $20,000, are still her figures, tied to her timeline of NDA refusal and the February 2025 reveal. Musk’s prior $2.5 million claim and his earlier openness to a paternity check sit on the record beside his camp’s lack of an immediate reply to the latest story.

Courts sort custody and support. Documentaries sort grievances. When a child is real and the NDA is rejected, the argument stops being theoretical and starts showing up in monthly numbers.