CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
S TEFANIE
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J ULIAN CATTANEO KEPT his promise. For the next three weeks, he wrote me letters at least twice a week. He didn’t mail them. There was never a stamp on them. Yet, somehow, Julian's letters found their way into my mailbox, always without a stamp.
I suspected he had someone on the inside, ensuring their delivery. That was both unsettling and endearing. But I didn’t complain because they were the highlight of my day. Some of his letters were sexy, some were funny, and others were super sweet.
But the ones I loved the most were the informative ones in which he told me about himself. He told me about how he grew up. He told me about how strict his father had been and how it was always his mother he ran to when he felt pressured by the Cattaneo lifestyle.
He didn’t have to mention what that lifestyle consisted of. I wasn’t deaf or blind. Everyone in town knew the Cattaneo family. Julian wasn’t the first Cattaneo I’d met, which was why I’d been a little iffy about India rooming with Aubrey Cattaneo.
Aubrey was a lovely girl, sweet and respectful. But I worried that she’d bring danger to my daughter. Then I met her parents, her mother specifically. Talking with her quieted some of my fears while increasing others.
In the end, I’d decided to let her give it a try. Now the girls were super close. In his letters, Julian also told me about his cousins. Unlike me, he came from a large family. I’d always wanted a large family.
Growing up, my family only consisted of me, my mom, and my dad. Oh, and Ronnie. I couldn’t forget Ronnie. He’d spent more time at my house than his own. And when he’d finally come out of the closet, his father had kicked him out for a while, and he’d lived with us.
I couldn’t remember any of my grandparents on either side of my family. They passed away when I was really young. When I met the man I married, the first thing I noticed about him was his large family.
I’d become close friends with his sisters and treated his younger brother like he was my younger brother. For a while, they’d been like family to me, and I’d been thankful for my extended family.
However, when things went south, they turned their backs on me. Betrayal on top of betrayal . They’d taught me to be thankful for what I had and not to covet what I didn’t. More didn’t always mean better or happier.
I was only blessed with one child. And I was just as happy as a family of four. Quality over quantity . I stared down at Julian’s latest letter as I relaxed on my recliner. These letters had become important to me.
So did the little gifts he sent me at home and at my job. I’d been given better gifts before. More expensive gifts. But the gifts Julian sent me made me happier, made me smile harder. And he put thought into every letter he wrote and gift he gave.
Like the little black car he sent me. That man actually sent me a toy car! But it was the meaning behind it that made me place it on my bookshelf, a small token of a memory I wasn't ready to let go. The card attached to it read :
Sweet Stefanie,
Keep this, so when we get old, you won’t forget that I ate your pussy in the back seat of my car. Some memories are worth holding on to forever. Let’s hold on to that one, and let’s both let go of one bad memory that haunts us.
Missing you,
J.C.
I’d read that letter while relaxing on my couch. It had left me feeling needy and wishing I could relive spring break all over again. Then there was the super cute and funny engraved coffee mug he sent me that read: I like my woman the same way I like my coffee: hot, black, and filled with cream.
Reading that mug had brought back memories that haunted me almost every night. If I woke up from another wet dream starring Julian Cattaneo, I was going to go insane. I’d read that one while doing laundry.
I swear my horny ass almost sat on the dryer so it could finish what my naughty mind had started. Needless to say, that was now my favorite mug. And I think the letter he sent today was my favorite letter.
This was one of the informative ones. There were no grand declarations of love or anything. Yet, it made me feel special, more special than any gift or any love confession.
Sweet Stefanie,
I miss you. Now that we’ve gotten the most important part out of the way, here is another important fact about me. I don’t have a favorite side of the bed. Left or right, it doesn’t matter to me. But I do have one requirement when we sleep together.
I need to sleep on the side of the bed closest to the door. Just in case someone breaks in, I’ll be the first thing they see, the first thing they go after. Not you. Never you. I’ll protect you, even when we sleep.
And if I ever fail to protect you, I’ll kill whoever hurt you and then make sure your daughter is protected for life. Once that is done, I’ll join you. Go ahead and say your signature phrase: red flag. But this is the truth! I’m tired of being away from you, Stefanie Adams.
Needing you,
J.C.
Why was I smiling like a fool? This man just said he’d kill someone for me. And I had to believe him. I mean, he was a Cattaneo, after all. And Cattaneos weren’t known for being saints. In fact, many said they were brutal killers.
Plus, it wasn’t like I’d never seen a Cattaneo kill before. I had. But it hadn’t scared me. I’d understood the reason behind the kill. Just like I understood what Julian was saying here. Self-defense and vengeance weren’t the same thing.
But I considered them both good reasons to take a life. Yes, life was precious. But if someone came after me and my family, that meant they no longer valued their life, so why should I? I would definitely kill to protect mine.
Self-defense.
If someone hurt my family, especially that daughter of mine, and thought they were going to get away with it, they were a fucking lie. I would spend the rest of my existence making anyone who hurt my daughter suffer, even if I ended up in prison for it.
Vengeance.
That’s why I wasn’t turned off by this letter, nor was I scared. I grew up in a home with a father who kept a shotgun locked and loaded in case an intruder broke in. I understood that protecting your loved ones was a priority.
And sometimes it meant doing the unthinkable. That’s why Julian’s letter didn’t scare me. That was why I hadn’t forced India to change roommates when I heard she was rooming with a Cattaneo.
Because like the Cattaneos, I was no saint. I understood that sometimes there was a very thin line between a criminal act and justice. What would Julian say if he knew I’d once killed for one of the reasons that made sense to me?
Vengeance.
***
A FEW DAYS LATER.. .
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A STORM WAS COMING . The next few days, I would be spending hours at the news station, helping track storms that were coming through the area. The official start of hurricane season was a month away.
That didn’t mean tornadoes weren’t a threat to our area. The team was already tracking a storm system before I left the house, and the alerts kept coming in. Possible tornado activity. Hail. Power outages. The kind of chaos I’d signed up to manage, at least for another week.
I won’t lie, I thrived under these conditions. This was my element. What I hadn’t expected was to see Hudson the moment I walked in. I stopped at the entrance, confused. The man had no reason to be here. None. It was a storm-tracking morning.
The sun wasn’t even up yet. Yet, there he was, dressed in a fitted polo shirt and khakis like he ran the place, handing out coffee and bagels. My stomach turned. He was holding court near the front desk, laughing with some of the morning crew like he was one of them.
Some of the staff were saying he was in line to take over when Mark retired. I didn’t believe that, but with men like him, money could make damn near anything possible. Whether he was qualified or not didn’t always matter when a man with power wanted something.
I didn’t slow down. Didn’t greet him. Didn’t acknowledge him. I kept walking to the breakroom. All I wanted was caffeine. Strong, black, and hot. I was hoping to be in and out in under five minutes, but that was too much to ask for.
The damn coffee machine had a ‘ Broken’ sign taped to it. I knew that handwriting. Hudson’s. Fuck my life! I glanced at the breakroom table. There were two large trays of bagels and three carriers of coffee from that overpriced spot downtown.
Of course, one of the cups had my name on it. I didn’t have to sniff it to know it was a peppermint mocha. I could smell the sweet scent that I craved during the winter months. But during the summer, I preferred salted caramel.
If he listened when we talked, he’d know that. I glared at my name on the cup. I’d rather drink sewage water than drink anything he’d purchased. Turning around, I walked out without touching anything.
The first-floor café didn’t open until seven. I could wait. Better to wait than to give Hudson something to throw in my face later. I took the side hallway to avoid walking past him again, but he must’ve expected I’d do that, because there he was striding in my direction.
His entire demeanor screamed entitled. I kept my eyes forward. If I ignored him, maybe he’d walk past without saying anything. Wrong! His weak ass stepped right in front of me.
“Did you see the cup in the breakroom with your name on it?” he asked.
“I did.” I stepped right.
He moved in front of me. “I got you your favorite coffee,” he said.
“Peppermint mocha?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
“Yeah. That’s your favorite, right? See,” he delivered his most dazzling smile. “I remember everything about you.”
I tilted my head. “In the wintertime, I drink peppermint mocha because it reminds me of snowy Christmas days. During the summer, I prefer something else.”
He blinked, like the concept of seasonal preferences was too complicated for him.
“Really? I mean, it’s coffee. It’s hot no matter when you drink it. Right?”
Once again, what I said hadn’t mattered. “Thanks for the coffee, but I don’t want it.”
I stepped to the side to pass him, but he mirrored my move, still blocking me. He took a deep breath and released it slowly before speaking.
“Stefanie, I’m stretching out an olive branch here. Can’t you accept it?”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t want to.”
“That’s not a reason.”
I took a deep breath. “Actually, it is. I don’t want to is a valid reason, Hudson. I don’t want anything from you. I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t want to be with you. I don’t want you. Why can’t you understand that?”
An expression came over his face that I’d never seen before. He took a step forward.
“I’m about tired of that mouth of yours,” he started.
I stepped back, my pulse quickening. The look in Hudson’s eyes wasn’t just anger. It was something darker. Hatred! Despite what he said, this man hated me. It was written all over his face.
His words hung in the air, heavy and threatening. Before I could respond, the security guard’s voice cut through the tension.
“Ms. Adams?” he called out.
Hudson’s posture shifted instantly. He forced a smile, shoulders relaxing as he shoved his hands into his pockets. If you looked up the definition of toxic masculinity, you’d see a picture of him.
“We’ll talk later,” he whispered, his tone strained.
“How about no,” I said loudly, not willing to whisper to save his pride.
Though he was forcing a smile, the look in his eyes told the real story. Hudson didn’t want to date me. He wanted to own me. He wanted me to be one of his pretty possessions with no wants, dreams, or desires of my own.
Not happening. Ever. Stepping around him, I moved toward the guard who was holding a large cup of coffee and a bag from Insomnia Muffins, one of my favorite coffee shops.
“This was just dropped off for you,” the guard told me.
“Thank you.” My mouth watered at the smell of salted caramel.
“I’ll head back up front.”
“Remember to stay away from the front doors when it starts to get bad.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he told me.
Smiling, I used my chin to nudge the bag open. Inside were two large blueberry muffins with the crystallized sugar on top. My favorites. And the smell was divine. This was just what I needed to get my morning started. And I didn’t have to wonder who they were from. I already knew.
Smiling, I mumbled to myself, “How does he get it right every time?”
“So you really are dating someone?” a deep voice said from next to me.
I’d forgotten entirely about Hudson. I side-eyed him as he stared at my coffee.
“At first, I thought you were sending yourself those gifts.”
“Why would I do that?” I asked, frowning.
He shrugged. “To make everyone think you had someone.”
I didn’t have someone. But I won’t lie, this was starting to feel like I did. How did he know I would be here this early? And how did he know exactly what to get me? I smirked. Julian Cattaneo has been spying on me. Why the hell wasn’t I mad?
“You’ve never smiled like that for me,” Hudson mumbled.
And.... the smile was gone. This man could fuck up a wet dream. I faced Hudson.
“And you’ve never once remembered something that I like,” I countered.
There was that tick in his jaw again. “Trying to remember everything you like would be like studying for the bar exam or something. Most women are simple. They’re happy that you thought of giving them something, so they don’t care what it is. Why do you have to be so picky?”
“Picky? Wanting a man to listen to me and retain the information I tell him is being picky? Wanting a man to care enough to notice the small details is being picky?”
I swear they didn’t make men like my father anymore. Well, there was Julian...
“I give and give to you and you never even care,” Hudson complained.
“For Christmas, I drew your name in the gift exchange,” I told him. “I asked you what you wanted and you said you’d like whatever I got you.”
“See, I’m not picky.”
“About two weeks before the exchange date, you and I were talking, and I saw that you weren’t wearing the cross necklace you normally wore, the one with your grandparents' names engraved on the back. You told me it had gotten stuck when you were leaning down, and you ended up losing the cross. What did I get you for Christmas?”
He swallowed. “You... You got me a new cross, exactly like the other one, with my grandparents' names on it.”
“Yes, I did. Because I listen when you talk to me. Marcy pulled my name, but you switched with her because you wanted my name. She told you that she’d already asked me what I wanted, and I told her I wanted a gift card to that new restaurant on the boulevard.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, I remember her mentioning that.”
“What did you get me?”
“I... I got you a great gift, Stefanie.”
“You got me a necklace with your birthstone on it.”
Why the hell would I want his birthstone? It felt kind of creepy to me. Kind of voodooish. I never wore it.
“I gave it to you so that a part of me could always be with you. It was thoughtful.”
“To you. Not to me. I really wanted the gift card. I didn’t need anything with your birthstone on it. That’s the difference between you and me. I listen when you talk to me. You listen only when I’m talking about you to you. You listen only when it’s something you want to hear. You don’t know what I like. You don’t know what I want out of life. After all these years, you don’t know me. But I know you. And I know that you’re not the person I want to be with.”
“But he is, the man who keeps giving you things like your favorite flowers and coffee? He’s the one you want?”
I stared down at my bag. Was Julian the one I wanted? If he were older, if life had been kinder to me... yeah... Julian Cattaneo would be exactly who I wanted. He was thoughtful and considerate. He wasn’t pushy. I didn’t feel pressured by him. He was caring.
I hadn’t seen him since spring break, but he’d been there for me on days when I was spiraling and needed someone. Even if it was just in the form of a letter or a mug, this man kept me from losing my damn mind when those around me were sending me through it.
So yeah, he was the one I wanted. I could finally admit to myself that I had a crush on Julian Cattaneo. However, I was wise enough to understand that we couldn’t always have what we wanted. Too bad Hudson didn’t understand that.
“Are you really thinking about this jerk right in front of me?” Hudson complained, tone filled with fury.
It was a reminder that we were once again alone. I stared up at the corner of the hall.
“Careful,” I told him. “We have cameras. We don’t want security seeing you be volatile.”
His gaze darted to the cameras just as thunder sounded in the distance.
“And on that note, I’m going to head to my office to eat. Then I'll get ready for the first-alert weather day.”
I walked away from him. Though I didn’t look back, I did listen closely for the sound of footsteps. I was ready to throw this hot coffee in his face if he ran up on me.
“You should be careful, Stefanie,” Hudson called from behind me. “Those rumors from years ago may start up again. Times are different now. The most scandalous things are the ones that go viral these days. And there are a couple of scandals in your past, right?”
I stopped walking. I knew a threat when I heard one. And Hudson was threatening to start those rumors back up if he didn’t get what he wanted. Me! I turned slowly to face Hudson, only to find him gone.
I was alone in the hallway. Alone with the last words he’d uttered. Thunder sounded again, louder this time, more ominous. I wouldn’t put it past Hudson to stir up trouble if he didn’t get what he wanted.
He claimed he cared for India, but he knew starting those rumors again would hurt her. What he didn’t know was the lengths I’d go to ensure she never found out what happened back then. I’d go up against anyone to prevent that. I’d be willing to go to jail to prevent that.
I’d kill again to keep that from happening.