Chapter 20
Hunter
A month later.
I kiss the top of her head and pull the quilt up around her, then head out to the balcony.
I call Logan. He picks up after a few rings.
“I thought you wouldn’t call, too busy living someone else’s life.”
“Shut up,” I grit out.
Logan asked me to call him when he came to our house for dinner. I know what he has to tell me. I’ve been busy all month with Elowen, our startup, and getting Chris out of our system, but that doesn’t mean I forgot about that motherfucker.
Logan chuckles. “Don’t get mad, brother. Sooo...” He drags the word. “I’ve found out where Salvario De Falco is. And he’s at...” He takes an annoying pause. “Tick-tock one... tick-tock two...”
“Logan Blackwood, if you don’t want me to come there and beat the shit out of you, fucking speak.”
He laughs. “I love this new Hunter. So much better than the no-reaction, grumpy Hunter who didn’t care about anything.”
“Speak,” I grunt.
“He’s in Montreal.”
“What’s he doing there?”
“I don’t know that much, I couldn’t get any closer information. It’ll take more time and a few men to know exactly where he’s living and what he’s doing, leaving behind such a beautiful woman who loves him so—”
“Shut up,” I roar, cutting him off.
He laughs. I end the call, seething.
Even though I’m wearing nothing but boxers and standing in the cold, I feel like I’m in a fucking furnace. This happens every time that bastard Logan speaks that poisonous truth—the truth that I can never be the man she loves.
The more I see her love for that motherfucker, the more I hate him. It could all have been mine if I’d gotten to her before him. She would’ve looked into my eyes and told me how much she loves me, not some other dick who happens to have the same eyes.
I walk back into the room and slide under the sheets, gently pulling her soft body close until she’s lying on top of me.
I wrap my arms tightly around her. Now I can feel her breath on my skin, her heart beating above mine.
This is the only way I can have her without the suffocation, the sick, gut-twisting knowledge that when she looks at me, she sees him.
When she smiles at me, she’s smiling at him.
When she whispers that she loves me, she’s whispering it to that bastard.
But now her weight is on my chest. Her warmth sinks into my skin.
Her body is pressed against mine, and my arms are locked around her, and for this moment, she’s mine.
Only mine. He can have her waking hours, her smiles, her words.
But in the dark, when she’s draped over me like this, breathing slow and soft, she belongs to me.
I kiss the top of her head, running my fingers through her short hair.
“I love you,” I whisper.
I stare at the ceiling. “Please love me back.”
The words hang in the silence, unanswered.
I can never beg her for this. I would, gladly.
On my knees. For years. If there were even the smallest chance it would earn me her love.
But I know the truth. The moment she learns about the lie, she’ll hate me for the rest of her life. I’ll lose what little of her I have.
You have nothing. You never had anything. The thought echoes through my skull.
Elowen
My phone rings, waking me up. I don’t get to move, though, the arm wrapped around me makes sure of that.
But he reaches for the phone on the nightstand while keeping me pressed against him.
He’s getting more and more obsessed with touching me all the time.
I’m not complaining at all. I’m the clingiest thing my parents could have created.
“Good morning, miss. Mr. Antonio Belluci is here,” Aron, the head of security at the gate, says from the other end.
“Let him in,” I answer sleepily, trying to open my eyes.
“Yes, miss.”
The call ends. I rub my face against Hunter’s bare chest.
“Good morning, Mr. Handsome.”
He grips my chin and pulls my head from his chest. I search his serious eyes, something’s bothering him.
“Marry me.”
My eyes widen. I’m completely taken aback by this sudden proposal, like, who proposes in such a deadly serious way first thing in the morning?
My man, of course.
I grin. “Shouldn’t you put in some work? Rings, flowers, a fancy date by the ocean?”
“I’ll do all that. First, marry me.”
I laugh. “You can’t ask me to marry you like you’re asking for a kiss.”
His face remains serious.
“Did you have a nightmare or something?”
He caresses my jaw with his thumb. “I had a nightmare. I lose you.”
I smile, placing my hand on his cheek. “That won’t happen. And yes, I’ll marry you, but not in a rush.” I chuckle. “You still have to meet my family. They’ve only seen your photos. Then, with them, we’ll pick a nice date and venue.”
“We can have the wedding later. Can’t we just sign the papers today?”
My eyes widen again. Today?
I laugh, dropping my head to his chest. “Today is just today, Hunter.”
“Please, baby.”
The raw vulnerability in his voice makes me lift my head, a frown forming on my forehead. I look at his face more closely. His dark circles are more prominent; his eyes look so tired, like he didn’t sleep at all last night.
I rub my thumb under his eye. I don’t like seeing him so troubled. No—I hate it.
“Okay, fine.”
Some of the dullness lifts from the gray.
“You’ll be my wife, then no one will take you from me,” he murmurs, more to himself than to me, before pressing his lips to mine in the most tender kiss.
I kiss him back, rubbing the back of his neck to tell him without words that no one is taking me from him, whether we marry or not.
But if a label of wife puts his mind at ease, then why not become the wife?
I’ll also get to call him my husband, something I’ve been fantasizing about forever.
And today isn’t bad, since Antonio is here.
Oh, shit. Antonio is here. I pull away from the kiss, sitting up abruptly in bed.
“Antonio is downstairs.”
I get out of bed in all my nakedness, and Hunter does an excellent job of making me aware of it by openly staring with that sizzling gaze.
I run to the closet, grab sweatpants and a sweatshirt, throw them on, and head out.
“I’m going downstairs. Come soon, okay?” I call over my shoulder, walking toward the door.
He nods from the bed.
Hunter
Antonio Belluci. The man who raised that bastard.
I didn’t know he’d come here, because if I had, I would’ve killed him before he could reach this place. There’s a chance he’ll realize I’m not Salvario within minutes, and that’s the last thing I want, especially now that I know Salvario is alive.
I delay as long as I can, but eventually I’ll have to face him. So I head downstairs. Her voice and a man’s deeper voice come from the living room.
Once I reach the doorway, they both turn to me.
Antonio is sixty-four but doesn’t look a day over fifty.
And not just his age, I know everything about him.
He’s Salvario’s only living family, and the man managing his business in his absence.
Keeping all the information on enemies and their associates reduces uncertainties, and increases your power over them.
He rises from the couch and walks slowly toward me, watching me closely. As he reaches me, his eyes glisten. He pats my cheek.
So he doesn’t recognize me. Good.
I wonder how similar I am to him, that even his guardian doesn’t notice. I’ll find out soon.
“I almost lost hope of seeing you again.” He takes off his glasses and pinches the bridge of his nose, then pulls me into a tight hug, patting my back. “It’s good to see you again, my child.”
I place my hand on his back, unsure what to do.
The only person I can show any affection to is Elowen.
Other than her, I’m used to Logan throwing himself at me all the time, but I never reciprocate.
And as for strangers, I’d kill anyone daring to do something like this.
But strangely, I don’t feel like killing this old man.
He pulls away, chuckling. “You’ve only changed your face, your habits are still the same. Do you still need to wear gloves outside?”
“No.”
He smiles, but it vanishes just as quickly. “Do you still see him?”
“Who?”
“The boy.” His voice turns low and gravelly, like he’s talking about a ghost that might return at the mere mention of him.
He must be talking about Salvario’s dissociative identity.
I don’t have anything like that. Elowen asked me about him as soon as she was certain I was him.
And like Antonio, she carries too much fear for that boy.
I shake my head.
His smile returns. “I suppose it’s because you lost your memories.”
I nod.
“It’s time to take what’s yours. I’m old enough to retire now,” Antonio says as we move to sit on the couches. I settle close to Elowen; he takes the single armchair.
“Wen told me you don’t have your memories, that’s why it took me so long to prepare everything.” He slides a small box toward me. “It’s all the details about your Texan.”
Texan is Salvario’s aircraft company.
“Thank you for taking care of it in my absence.”
He smiles. “How could I not?”
Elowen places her hand on my knee. “Antonio, would you like to be a witness at our paper wedding?” She looks at me with that beautiful smile, then back at Antonio. “It’s today.”
“I’d love to,” Antonio replies with a smile.
She looks at me again. “Let’s sign the papers during lunch. Invite Logan as well.”
I nod, returning her smile.