<b>Chapter </b><b>90 </b>
-HUNTER-
The next morning, I walked into the breakfast room to find Mother already seated at the head of the table, her smile too bright, too pleased with herself.
Caesar sat in the chair beside her, swinging his legs and chattering about something that made herugh.
My chest tightened. This was bing too familiar, too easy for her.
“Hunter, darling! Perfect timing.” Mother’s voice was honey–sweet. “I’ve asked Caesar to join us for breakfast. And Celine will be serving us today.”
My jaw clenched. Of course, she would. Another power y, another way to put Celine in her ce while she yed grandmother to my son.
Celine entered carrying a silver tray, her face carefully nk. She wore her usual ck uniform, and her hair pulled back severely, but I could see the tension in her shoulders.
When our eyes met briefly, hers held a warning….don’t make this worse.
I sat down heavily, my appetite already gone.
“Mr. Hunter!” Caesar beamed at me. “Granny Eleanor says we’re having pancakes! With berries!”
“How wonderful,” I said tly, watching as Celine set tes in front of us with steady hands.
Her sleeve brushed my shoulder as she leaned over me, and I caught a hint of her soap….clean and simple, nothing like the expensive perfume Mother wore.
Mother began cutting Caesar’s pancakes into small pieces, her movements gentle and practiced. “So, Hunter, tell me about the fundraiser next week. The one for Senator Williams’s campaign.”
I stabbed my pancakes with unnecessary force. “What about it?”
“Well, you’ll be attending, of course. I’ve already told Mia you’ll escort her.” Mother’s smile was triumphant. “She’s such a lovely girl. So aplished. Her father thinks very highly of you.”
Celine froze near the sideboard, her back to us, but I saw her shoulders go rigid.
“I’m not going.” The words came out harder than I intended.
Mother’s fork paused halfway to her mouth. “Excuse me?”
“I said I’m not going. Vincent can attend in my ce. Or Caroline if you prefer family representation.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Mother’s voice sharpened. “This is important for business. For our reputation. Mia is expecting…”
“I don’t care what Mia is expecting.” I took another angry bite, chewing like I was trying to destroy the food. “Send my regrets.”
Mother’s face went cold. I could see the calction in her eyes, the way she nced between me and Celine’s tense figure.
“Actually,” she said slowly, “Mia will being by this afternoon. Just a short visit. I thought you two could
spend some time together, and get reacquainted.”
My fork ttered against my te. “Mother…”
“She’s such a sweet girl,” Mother continued, her voice deceptively light. “So well–bred. The kind of woman
who would make an excellent wife and mother.”
Celine’s hands trembled as she refilled the orange juice pitcher. I wanted to tell Mother to shut up, to stop
her games, but Caesar was sitting right there, watching everything with curious eyes.
“Can I have more berries, Granny Eleanor?” Caesar asked, oblivious to the tension crackling around the
table.
“Of course, darling.” Mother’s voice immediately warmed as she turned to him. “Celine, more berries for
Caesar.”
Celine moved forward, her face carefully controlled, but I caught the sh of pain in her eyes when Mother deliberately used her name like she was just another servant.
“Such a good boy,” Mother cooed, ruffling Caesar’s hair. “Always so polite. His mother has raised him well.” The words sounded like praise, but there was something sharp underneath.
“Though of course, proper guidance from the right people never hurts.”
I saw Celine’s jaw tighten, but she said nothing. Just served the berries and stepped back to her position by
the wall.
“Speaking of guidance,” Mother continued, still focused on Caesar, “we should discuss his education soon. A boy his age needs structure, proper schooling….”
“He’s three,” I interrupted.
“Almost four,” Mother corrected. “And it’s never too early to start thinking about his future. The right schools, the right connections.” Her eyes flicked to Celine meaningfully.
“Children need stability and security. They need to know where they belong.”
The threat was clear. I felt my hands clench into fists under the table.
“I need water,” I said abruptly, my voice rough <fn2615> Discover more novels at FιndＮovel</fn2615>
Celine moved immediately, lifting the crystal pitcher. As she leaned over to fill my ss, I let my fingers brush against her thigh, hidden by the tablecloth.
Her breath caught, and I felt the tremor that ran through her.
Mother was distracted, wiping syrup from Caesar’s face with a napkin, making gentle shushing sounds.
when he squirmed.
I pressed my palm against Celine’s leg, feeling the warmth of her skin through the thin fabric of her uniform. She was so close I could feel her breathing quicken, could see the flush creeping up her neck.
My body responded immediately, heat pooling low in my belly. Everything about her drove me crazy…her strength, her vulnerability, the way she tried so hard to protect her son while my mother circled like a
predator.
She pulled away quickly, but not before I saw her pupils dte, and saw the way her lips parted slightly. She
knew exactly what she did to me.
When Mother looked up from Caesar, her sharp eyes moved from Celine’s flushed face to my intense stare,
then back again.
I saw the moment she put the pieces together, saw the cold satisfaction that crossed her features.
“Hunter,” she said softly, dangerously. “About Mia’s visit…”
“Fine.” The word tore out of me. “I’ll see her.”
Mother’s smile was pure victory. “Wonderful. She’ll be so pleased.”
I kept my eyes on Celine, watching the defeat settle over her features like a shroud. She thought I was choosing Mia, choosing the easy path Mother hadid out for me.
She was wrong.
-CELINE’S POV
I stood by the wall watching Mrs. Reid cut Caesar’s pancakes, her movements so gentle and loving it made
my chest ache.
This was what Caesar deserved….a grandmother who doted on him, and who wanted to give him
everything.
But I knew better now. I had learned to read the calction behind her kindness.
“Mr. Hunter looks grumpy,” Caesar whispered to Mrs. Reid, loud enough for the whole room to hear.
“Sometimes grown–ups have things on their minds, darling,” she replied, shooting Hunter a meaningful look. “Important decisions to make.”
Hunter’s knuckles were white and he gripped his fork. I wanted to touch his shoulder, to somehow ease the tension radiating from him, but I couldn’t.
Not here. Not ever.
When Mrs. Reid started talking about schools and futures and stability, my stomach dropped. She was already nning Caesar’s life, already seeing how to remove me from it piece by piece.
“I need water,” Hunter said suddenly, his voice strained.
I moved forward with the pitcher, trying to keep my hands steady. As I leaned over him, his fingers found my thigh through my skirt.
The touch was brief, hidden, but it sent electricity through my entire body.
I couldn’t breathe properly. His hand was warm and strong, and even that small contact made my skin burn.
When I nced down at him, his eyes were dark with want, with the same desperate need I felt wing at my insides.
Heat flooded my cheeks. I stepped back quickly, but not before Mrs. Reid’s eagle eyes took in everything… my flushed face, Hunter’s hungry stare, the tension vibrating between us.
Her smile was sharp as a de.
“About Mia’s visit,” she said, and I felt the trap closing around us.
“Fine,” Hunter said roughly. “I’ll see her.”
The words hit me like a physical blow. Of course, he would. He was Hunter Reid, heir to a fortune, destined for someone like Mia…polished, appropriate, everything I could never be.
Mrs. Reid’s satisfaction was real. “Wonderful. She’ll be so pleased.”
I focused on Caesar, on his sticky fingers and syrup–covered smile, on anything but the way my heart was
breaking all over again.
This was why I couldn’t let Hunter’s touches mean anything. This was why I had to keep my distance.
Because in the end, he would always choose the path his motherid out for him.
And I would always be just the help.