Elon Musk allegedly slashed Ashley St. Clair’s monthly child support by $80,000 after she refused an NDA and revealed their son, claims in a new documentary show.
Page Six reported that St. Clair, in the documentary “Musk,” says the Tesla CEO first dropped her monthly payments to $40,000 after she turned down a nondisclosure agreement, then cut them again to $20,000 once she went public about their child.
The film premiered at the Venice Film Festival. St. Clair’s account puts the deeper cut after her February 2025 reveal of their son, Romulus St. Clair, now 2, whom she has described as Musk’s 13th child. A rep for Musk did not immediately respond to the outlet’s request for comment.
The dispute is now wrapped into a broader custody fight and a trail of private money, secrecy demands, and competing public statements. St. Clair’s legal team says the reduced support left her facing eviction.
According to claims laid out in the documentary, Musk offered St. Clair $15 million plus $100,000 a month in child support if she signed an NDA. She refused. She has said she could not “in good conscience” lock the arrangement into permanent silence and did not want Romulus to “feel like he’s a secret.”
After that refusal, she says, the monthly support fell to $40,000. After the public reveal in February 2025, she says it fell again to $20,000. That stepwise drop is the basis for the claimed $80,000 monthly cut.
Musk had previously claimed he had already paid St. Clair $2.5 million and said he was “not against finding out” whether he was the child’s father. The documentary framing presents the later reductions as pressure tied to her refusal to stay quiet and her decision to name him.
"It was almost as if he didn’t show a certain side of himself until after I had our baby."
St. Clair has used that line to describe the turn she says came after Romulus was born. She has also said Musk was “kind” until then, and that “things started getting weird” once she was pregnant.
St. Clair has described the relationship as beginning in 2023, when Musk began interacting with her on X. She said he responded often to her posts. One reply, she has recalled, came on a Mother’s Day post and pushed the idea of more children.
"We should have a kid. You should have so many more kids. You should have 10 kids."
She has said she eventually asked what that would look like. At the Venice premiere she also claimed that before she gave birth, Musk texted about wanting a “legion of children before the civil war.” Those statements remain her account; Musk’s side has not answered them in the coverage surrounding the film.
St. Clair has further claimed other women contacted her after being messaged by Musk, including a story about a woman in Japan seeking what she called a sperm-donation arrangement. None of those third parties are named with independent on-the-record confirmation in the available reporting.
Musk’s public profile has only grown more central to Republican politics in the same period, including when Elon Musk topped major midterm donor lists after heavy campaign spending. That political weight is part of why a private custody fight keeps drawing national attention.
When St. Clair went public, she wrote that she had welcomed a baby five months earlier and that Musk was the father. Fox News reported her statement on X and her explanation that she had been told to keep the birth secret, including for privacy and safety, until tabloid interest forced the issue.
"I was told to keep it secret. I was being asked to keep it a secret forever... I was completely isolated during my pregnancy."
That same reporting described Musk as having funded a nearly $40,000-a-month Manhattan apartment and security while talks about a private parenting agreement continued. Musk has not issued a public confirmation of paternity in that coverage.
A friend later described the emotional break in blunter terms. The New York Post reported Emma-Jo Morris saying St. Clair reached out when a tabloid began digging, expected help, and instead concluded she was on her own.
"Ashley got wind that a tabloid was kicking the tires on her, and she reached out to Elon immediately. He basically cut bait, and so the message was understood that she was on her own."
Morris said St. Clair felt “jilted and terrified” as a single mother tied to a high-profile partner who, in her circle’s telling, would not step in to manage the exposure. St. Clair had expected a discreet peripheral arrangement of the kind associated with some of Musk’s other partners. When that expectation collapsed, she moved to control the narrative herself.
Musk’s standing around Republican power centers has shifted in public view before, including after he returned to Trump’s circle following a spending-bill blowup. Personal litigation sitting beside that political lane guarantees every filing gets read for more than family court stakes.
By late February 2025 the dispute was already in ugly procedural territory. Breitbart reported on St. Clair’s court filings alleging she conceived after two encounters in St. Barts in January 2024, revealed the birth on Valentine’s Day, and was seeking sole custody in New York.
The filings alleged Musk had seen the infant only three times and was absent from the birth. They also stated he “no longer wishes to resolve issues of custody and support amicably,” and that serving him in person would be “impractical” because of his travel, profile, and security. St. Clair’s team described lawyers as non-responsive to service attempts.
Those claims sit alongside the later documentary account of the support cuts and the eviction warning from her legal team. No full court orders, support schedules, or NDA text appear in the reporting package; the public file remains a contest of allegations, prior payment claims, and silence from Musk’s representatives on the newest documentary charges.
Readers tracking party machinery through another cycle have watched similar midterm turbulence elsewhere, including when the Clintons pushed late midterm stops as Democrats tried to steady a shifting coalition. High-profile personal fights on the right draw the same national gaze for the same reason: they land next to real power.
In the same stretch of coverage, Neuralink executive Shivon Zilis, mother of Seldon Lycurgus, described as Musk’s 14th child, said Musk ended their relationship “with no warning.” The documentary and surrounding reports place St. Clair’s story inside a wider pattern of private family arrangements that become public only when money, custody, or secrecy breaks down.
St. Clair, a former conservative influencer and author, has framed her refusal to sign as a stand for her son’s status. Musk’s camp has not answered the documentary’s dollar figures. What remains on the record is her claimed sequence, six-figure NDA package refused, support down to $40,000, public reveal, support down to $20,000, plus a custody case that her filings say is no longer headed for a quiet deal.
House races and social-issue whiplash have already forced other politicians into public retreats, including when four vulnerable Democrats reversed course on transgender athletes. Celebrity-adjacent family fights do not pass laws, but they do test whether powerful men handle private obligations with the same clarity they demand in public fights.
Secret child arrangements and heavy NDAs may buy quiet for a while. When they collapse, the filings, the cameras, and the kid all show up together, and the public gets the bill of particulars whether anyone wanted it or not.
