RAGNAR #4
Many guys are fascinated by purples, is he one of them? And would I give it to him? The thought of it is surprisingly unpleasant, like the sheer idea of doing it with someone other than Sun just feels wrong.
Tentatively, I shift my gaze over him, swallowing hard.
Objectively, he’s the most classically handsome of the four brothers.
Luca’s very masculine, but a little rough around the edges. Rocco has some kind of flaw—aside from the scar, there’s an asymmetry to him. Eliano is beautiful, but in a way that still looks too young, like there’s a question mark about how he’ll grow into his features.
Mauro, though, he’s striking. Symmetrical. Defined.
But… he’s just NOT Sun!
Unable to bear the silence… "What is it? A fuck?" I blurt out, nervously clenching my fists. Fate, please, not this.
My stressful moment is cut short when he rolls his eyes, then leans in and types:
"No! I don’t want anything from you."
Whoa! A relief. I was getting pretty uncomfortable about it already.
But still, I don’t get it.
He’s Anzo’s nephew by blood, Anzo practically raised him, taking the role of a stepfather, yet clearly… Mauro isn’t loyal.
If he were, he would be running away now, to deliver the news that the gardener is fucking the capo’s boyfriend!
I can’t wrap my head around it, I just can’t.
"You’re not going to do anything about what you just saw?"
Mauro slowly shakes his head…
"What’s going on here?" I whisper. "You’re weird as fuck as a family!"
But he only shrugs, turns around, and walks away. Unhurriedly. Just like that.
What the hell?
The moment I think I'm beginning to understand what's going on in The Sun, the next moment I'm lost again.
So I just stare after him, stunned, trying to process what the hell just happened.
Luca made it clear before: in the mafia, you don’t hit on someone’s partner. That’s a hard rule. Off limits. And Anzo is not just a member, he's the capo.
They both used that argument to justify killing three of their own soldati ! So how can he ignore it when it comes to me?
What the hell is going on here? Secrets? Games?
Dazed, I head for the passageway.
The only thing I know for sure is that, right now, Sun and I are entirely at Mauro’s mercy. For reasons I can’t begin to understand.
He ignored us.
Which leaves just one question:
What’s his endgame? Because, I sure as hell know he has one.
***
That late afternoon, while trying to loosen up in the bathtub, I get the long-awaited call from Veyron Nolan, the guy I hired as a proxy investigator, since no one else was willing to take the job.
"I’ve got some news," Veyron says. "And some of it’s pretty damn shocking."
My body tenses instantly, and I sit up so fast the water nearly splashes my phone.
"What?!"
"My father’s the Deputy County Clerk, and I figured I could use that to look into sealed divorce records. He managed to confirm that a divorce between Moon Larsen and Anzo Ferro was finalized seven months ago. One day later… Anzo married Summer Larsen."
My jaw drops. I don’t even know how to process that. I mean, I knew Moon was alive, I could feel it, but knowing he actually filed for divorce like it was a regular thing?
"But that’s not all," Veyron adds, sounding genuinely fired up. "I tracked down the law firm that handled the whole thing. I talked to a legal assistant there, and get this, he was surprisingly open about what happened. Totally outraged, too. Anzo Ferro showed up in person and threatened them, demanding they give him Moon’s new home address. But guess what? Moon had used a registered agent as a legal intermediary, and the address was protected under the Address Confidentiality Program. Even with all his rage and threats, Anzo couldn’t get past it. "
"Holy shit," I mutter. "Sounds like Moon really thought this through. He covered his tracks pretty well, if Anzo couldn't dig him out with all his resources."
"Exactly. And here’s the kicker, Moon didn’t even logged into his own bank account to pay the registered agent fees. The payment was made over the phone through his bank, no card, no online transfer. Nothing traceable."
"Moon clearly knew what he was doing." I pause for a second, overwhelmed. "That actually… gives me hope. Maybe he really is safe!"
Veyron chuckles softly. "Yeah, I’d say so. Honestly, it looks like he planned it well. And Anzo storming into a law office, threatening the staff? That tells me he’s not behind Moon’s disappearance. He’s desperate to find him. If he couldn’t do it, I doubt we’ll have better luck."
"True. But still, this is something. It’s actually great news. Thanks! I need to tell my parents. And of course, we’ll settle up like we agreed."
Veyron sounds pretty damn pleased with himself, and frankly, he should be.
For a young guy who’s not even in that line of work anymore, he did really well.
From what I know, he’s actually an electronics guy by trade.
He runs his own business now renting out digital signs and billboards around the city.
He really went out of his way to help, tapping into personal contacts. I owe him.
After we hang up, I’m left sitting in cooling bathwater, thoughts racing.
Is this it? A concussion to the ‘Moon stage’ of my mission?
Is my next step just rescuing Summer from the fortress?
Or is there still a chance Moon was taken, or helped to escape, and someone in the fortress knows something, but is hiding, too scared to speak up?
Given what I already know about the fortress security situation, it’s hard to imagine Moon would pull it off on his own, so there’s still a chance to find some clues.
What should I do?
One thing is for sure. I can’t sit still any longer.
I decide to stop by Hunter’s place.
I’ve been trying to reach him for days, but he hasn’t answered. No replies to my texts either. I wonder if he’s made any progress on the witness protection front. It might be even more necessary now than before.
After Olaf died, Hunter sold their downtown apartment and bought a house in the suburbs. I’ve never visited him here, didn’t want to force it. I’ve tried a few times before, but he always declined. Said he wasn’t ready to see people. Social interactions were too much.
But now I’m starting to get worried.
***
One hour later, I show up unannounced. I park the car in the driveway.
Hunter’s property is surrounded by a tall wall, thick with arborvitae that completely block the view. A perfect place to isolate yourself.
The gate is closed, and I don’t want to use the intercom.
So I climb the wall and land on the lawn.
Wow. The house is sleek and modern, big glass panes and a geometric structure like a series of cubes stacked together.
There’s a pool and patio on the side. It’s a pretty luxurious setup, but that’s not surprising.
Hunter and Nathaniel’s parents were loaded, and after they died, the brothers inherited a sizable fortune.
Staying alert, I head for the front door and knock—loudly!
There’s a long stretch of silence before it finally opens… and there he is.
Hunter.
I’m shocked at how much he’s changed since I last saw him during Olaf’s funeral. He used to be ridiculously jacked, obsessed with working out. Even as a purple alpha, with my naturally fast muscle growth, I wasn’t far ahead of him in terms of size.
Now, most of that is gone. Sure, he’s still muscular, but it’s a different kind.
Leaner. Stringier. Like his body’s made of tightly pulled knots of muscle.
His face is pale, and the circles under his eyes are nearly black, as if he hasn’t slept in weeks.
Unfortunately I can smell the alcohol odor in the air. Heavy. It soaked into the walls. That smell alone puts me on edge.
"Ragnar," he says in a flat, mechanical voice, like it takes him a second to recognize me.
His eyes are hollow. His face… completely still. A mask.
"What are you doing here?" he asks, like I’m invading enemy territory.
I sigh, already losing patience.
"I’ve got a few things I need to talk about."
"I’m not in the mood for a conversation, Ragnar."
He starts to close the door, but no. That’s enough. I grunt angrily and put my hand on the door, stopping it. He curses under his breath and backs off, giving up on trying to fight me.
I step inside.
"What the hell is going on with you, Hunter?"
He doesn’t answer. Just walks farther down the hallway.
I follow him into the living room. It’s stylish, but the stench of alcohol is even stronger here, and I wrinkle my nose.
Hunter drops onto the couch. He’s wearing a stretched-out military T-shirt and black shorts. There’s a week’s worth of reddish stubble on his face.
After a moment’s hesitation, I sit next to him and stare at his pale profile.
The silence between us is deep. Heavy.
"It’s been almost ten months, Hunter. It’s time to start living again."
I see his chest rise with a deeper breath, but his face doesn’t change.
"That’s exactly why I didn’t want to see anyone," he says, voice dry. "Because I don’t want to hear any more motivational crap about how life goes on and how things can still be amazing."
His face stays expressionless. He stares blankly toward the glass wall, into the overgrown backyard.
"Hunter, are you seeing anyone? Are you going to therapy? Sometimes even just a conversation—"
"Did you come here for something specific, Ragnar?" he cuts in sharply.
I press my lips together. Hunter’s whole energy feels almost hostile, like he wants me to get the hell out and never come back.
"Yeah… I’ve made some progress. I know where Summer is."
I say it, but I’m not even sure he cares.
"Also, your cousin Veyron found out that Moon finalized the divorce through a law firm, so it looks very much like Anzo is not the one responsible for his disappearance."
Sure enough, Hunter keeps staring out into the garden like I haven’t said anything at all.
Should I mention Sun? Maybe this is the only way to shake him out of this stupor.
"Do you know who I ran into inside the Ferro estate?"
Silence. Same blank face.