Page 31

Chapter thirty-one

Hunter's Residence, London

Hunter

I wake, the quiet hum of morning a stark contrast to the chaos I lived only hours ago. Isabella sleeps peacefully beside me, her breasts rising and falling beneath the sheet. Dark curls fall over the white satin; she looks every inch the Hollywood film star, though her red lips are long gone and returned to her natural blush pink.

My phone buzzes on the bedside cabinet, an unwelcome reminder of the events the day has to offer. As I lift it from its resting place, the date catches me by surprise even though it shouldn’t. The first of January stares back, the start of a new year. A new three hundred-sixty-five-day book waiting to be written, but will anything really change for me? Life is so different to what it was three months ago, and the transition all started when those damn divorce papers hit my desk.

In less than one hundred and twenty days, I’ve gone from wanting to rule London and manage the men around me with an iron fist to questioning everything I stand for. Although I’ve told myself in the past that I am a good man and every action I take is grounded in logic, it’s not something I’ve always believed. With Isabella back in my life, I see so much more hope for a life more fulfilling. The hopes and dreams I buried twenty years ago when my marriage fell apart have resurfaced strong.

I close my eyes again. Greyson’s bloodied face immediately appearing with pinpoint focus. I replay the moment I cut into his chest with my knife, carving the word TRAITOR across his taught skin like it was a daily task. The memory makes my skin crawl. I’m disgusted with myself for acting so barbarically towards a man I consider an ally. And for what? Because he fell for a girl that he wasn’t supposed to? He protected her when her supposed fiancé wouldn’t? As her uncle, is that not what I should want? A man who would lay his life down for her?

The relationships my friends have all created should be evidence enough that love doesn’t always appear from the places you expect it to. Sometimes it takes a leap of faith to find what you truly need in life. Last night’s events have me questioning my whole existence, and I am not sure I’m ready to face myself.

After forcing open my eyes, I try to push away the memories. Yet the more I try, the harder my pulse hammers, and the guilt refuses to loosen its grip.

Glancing at Isabella again, I carefully brush a curl from her cheek, my fingertips lingering against her soft skin. She murmurs something in her sleep, nestling deeper into the pillow, blissfully unaware of the war raging inside my mind.

Isabella trusts me. She sees good in me, even when I can’t. Her unwavering faith makes my actions feel heavier, my mistakes sharper. But she deserves honesty. If we’re truly going to build something lasting, something real, I need to give her the truth of who I am, not just the pieces I’ve allowed her to see. I need to be transparent, even if it hurts.

My phone vibrates again, insistent this time. The name flashing across the screen is Damon’s—a reminder that the world won’t wait for me to pull myself together. After taking a steadying breath, I swipe open the message:

Greyson’s stable. He’ll survive. We need to talk. There is news on the ships.

Even though that was something I knew when I left them all last night, it brings me relief to see the words. The calmness is swift but short-lived, quickly replaced by dread for the conversations I can no longer avoid.

“Hunter?”

Isabella’s sleepy voice interrupts my thoughts. She wriggles in the sheets, her eyes opening slowly, searching my face. The warmth of her gaze pulls at something deep within me, urging me to be a better man. This is what matters, not money, not control. This.

“I’m right here,” I whisper softly. “Go back to sleep.”

She doesn’t listen, of course. Sitting up slightly, the sheet slides lower, revealing more of her smooth skin, but her expression quickly shifts from gentle curiosity to concern as she notices the turmoil I can’t hide.

“What’s happened?”

I hesitate, caught between shielding her and needing her to understand. But in the end, honesty wins.

“I made a mistake,” I say quietly. “And I don’t know how to fix it. But I want to be a better man for us.”

“Let me help you,” she whispers, reaching out and touching my arm gently. “Hunter, everyone makes mistakes. You are a good man.”

“It’s Greyson. I hurt him.”

“I know,” she confirms. “But you feel regret, I can see that.” She doesn’t flinch. She doesn’t turn away. Her fingers remain steady on my arm as her eyes soften. “Maybe your mistake was thinking love can be controlled.”

Something shifts within me, something I thought was immovable. Her words hit somewhere deep within me, a place I knew was there but never dared go. Who we love can’t be forced or caged. When we know who we are meant to be with, the draw is indescribable. I’ve loved the woman in my bed for two decades, even though she chose to leave. But our reunion has proven love wins, and it can’t be ended just because it doesn’t fit the plan.

“I think,” she says, softly, “you know what you need to do.”

“What’s that?”

“Give Greyson and Tilly your blessing.” She leaves the suggestion there for a moment, not following it up. It’s a simple statement that is so much more complex than she could ever understand. This isn’t just about who Tilly marries, this is about the future and safety of the empire my family has built. I’m already on the precipice of war with Rodion and his family. If I were to pull Tilly’s betrothal to Domenico Lombardi, I would be signing death sentences for all of us.

“Bella, that isn’t an option. Too much is at stake. To end the arrangement would be painting targets on every one of my men’s backs.”

She pushes herself up a little further, pulling the sheet around her breasts. Her head cocks to one side as her eyes run over my face, assessing every expression I make.

“I never took you as a quitter,” she murmurs, never looking away. Her eyes bore into my soul as if challenging me to be the man I claim to be. “Surely, you can come up with a solution to let the girl go free and maintain the facade of friendship with the others.”

“Bella, I…”

She moves onto her knees then crawls forward so we are eye level in bed. I’m frozen to the spot, unknowing if she is going to hit me or kiss me. We breathe together, each person waiting for the other to make the first move.

“I believe in you,” she says, her voice soft, filled with honesty. “I know the man you are.”

Pulling the sheet from us both, she wraps it around herself then slides off the bed. I watch as she makes her way toward the door.

“Where are you going?” I hiss. “There’ll be men out there, and you’re naked.”

She glances over her shoulder and smiles. “I’m covered up, Hunter. I’ll be back in a minute.”

“Where are you going?” I repeat, unsettled by the thought of any other man seeing her like she is. When she doesn’t respond, I jump out of bed and cross the room in a few strides, stepping up behind her and pushing the door closed as she goes to open it. “Bella, answer me.”

“To get something that will prove you’re a good man.”

“I’ll get it. Tell me what you want.” She freezes between my arms, then slowly turns to face me, blinking up as if innocent in all this. “You will not walk around this house half naked. No other man will ever see my wife in a state of undress.”

“And what about when I give birth? What if the doctor is a man?”

“You think you’re pregnant?” I whisper, leaning down to kiss her. She shakes her head, but a small smile plays on her lips as she takes in my excitement.

“No, it’s too early to tell. But if you fuck me the way you did last night often enough, I have no doubt I will be.” I slide my arms beneath hers, pulling her to me. My cock hardens instantly, pressed against her stomach. “My letters,” she says, quietly. “They’re in the box in my room. Bring them here. I want to read them together.”

“Bella, those are for you…” I trail off, not wanting to face the words I put on the page, the years of pouring my heart out to a woman I never thought would read them, until she returned.

“But you wrote them, and on those pages are thousands and thousands of words that prove just what a good man you are. You need to see him too.” She rises up on tiptoe, pressing plump warm lips to mine.“I’m going back to bed. Bring our letters, and let’s face this together.”

***

Isabella

Hunter’s phone buzzes again as I return to bed. I glance at the screen and see Damon is calling. I debate whether to answer the call on my husband’s behalf, considering if our relationship is at that point yet.

The ringing stops, only to begin again, the same caller desperate for Hunter’s attention. Deciding that the fact we are married and actively planning a family does in fact give me the right to answer my husband’s calls, I pick up the cell.

“Hello, Hunter’s phone,” I say, my tone professional. All I am met with is silence on the other end. “Hello.”

“Isabella?” the semi-familiar voice responds.

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry to interrupt. This is Damon. Is Hunter there?”

“She’s answering his phone,” another male voice says in the background. “Fuck, it must be serious.”

“Shut up, Chase,” Damon mutters, and my mind immediately goes to the older brother Russell. He seems more likely to make stupid comments than Connor.

“You can tell him we’re married,” I say with a laugh. “Hunter will be back in a moment.”

As the words leave my lips, the bedroom door opens again. Hunter is still stark naked, walking across the room, clutching the box of letters I asked him to retrieve. For a moment, I worry that I overstepped, answering his call from his friend perhaps wasn’t the correct thing to do, but then his face breaks into the most stunning smile.

“Thank you, Bella,” he says, placing the letters on the bed then reaching for his phone. He takes it as I begin to rummage in the box for the letters I want to show him, determined to prove to him that he is a good man. I listen to his conversation with Damon, something about needing to meet. There has been progress in something.

“I’ll be there later,” Hunter says. “It can wait. I need to be with me wife just now.” Damon obviously pushes back on my husband’s reluctance. His eyebrows furl as his expression darkens. “McKinney, this is what I pay you for. Collect the information, and I will deal with it when I get there. I’ll have the cleaner transferred to the Level. You can interrogate her while you wait for me.”

Hunter cuts the call before the other man can say anything else. He turns back to me.

“Do you need to go?” I ask him. He shakes his head. “What is happening with Kasia?”

He sits down beside me and plucks the envelope I’m holding from between my fingers.

“That can all wait,” he says, his voice soft. “Now, show me what you wanted me to see. Our future is more important to me than any business deal or vengeance. You, Bella, are my priority.”