<b>Chapter </b><b>116 </b>


    -HUNTER’S POV-


    120


    The harsh clearing of a throat pierced through the peaceful morning silence, pulling me from the depths of sleep.


    My eyes flew open to find my mother standing at the foot of my bed, her posture strict with disapproval, her lips pressed into a thin line of barely contained fury.


    Eleanor Reid had never learned the concept of knocking.


    Heat flooded my face as memories ofst night crashed over me–Celine’s soft moans, the way she’d whispered my name, the feeling of her body pressed against mine.


    The scent of her vani perfume still stayed on my sheets, and I could feel the warmth of her body next to me.


    A soft groan escaped from beside me, and I watched in horror as Celine stirred, her dark hair spilling across my pillow <i>like </i>silk.


    She turned toward me with a sleepy smile that could have stopped my heart.


    “Good morning,” she whispered, her voice husky with sleep,pletely ignorant of the storm brewing in my bedroom.


    “This is inappropriate, Mother.” My voice came out colder than I nned, but the vition of privacy made my blood boil.


    Celine’s eyes snapped open fully, following my gaze to where Eleanor stood like a marble statue of judgment.


    The color drained from her face as she realized she was naked in my bed, with my mother as an unwee witness.


    “Oh my God,” she breathed, scrambling to pull the sheets higher.


    Eleanor’s eyes narrowed to dangerous slits as she took in the scene….the rumpled sheets, Celine’s bare shoulders, the obvious intimacy of


    our position.


    When she spoke, her voice could have cut ss.


    “I should have known you would sink this low, Hunter. Sleeping with the help? Really? And this… this gold–digging little tramp thinks she


    can…..”


    “That’s enough.” My voice thundered through the room, cutting her off mid–sentence. I sat up straighter, not caring that my state of undress


    was obvious.


    “You will not speak to the mother of my son like that. You will not speak to any woman in my house like that.”


    The silence that followed was deafening.


    Eleanor’s mouth fell open, her carefully organized mask slipping for the first time in years. Celine stared at me with wide, shocked eyes, as if


    she couldn’t believe I had just defended her so fiercely.


    “The mother of your son?” Eleanor’s voice was barely above a whisper, but I could hear the tremor in it. “Hunter, can you hear yourself?<b>” </b>


    But I wasn’t ready for that conversation. Not like this. Not with Celine caught between us like a bullet in a war she never asked to fight.


    Celine moved with desperate efficiency, gathering the sheet around her body like armor. “I need to… I should go,” she stammered, avoiding


    my eyes as she bent to collect her scattered dress from the floor.


    13:07 Tue, 5 Aug


    “Celine, wait…..”


    But she was already rushing toward the door, the sheet trailing behind her like a wedding train in reverse. She didn’t look back, didn’t meet my eyes, just fled as if the room were on fire.


    The door clicked shut behind her, leaving me alone with my mother and the weight of what she had just witnessed.


    The rest of the morning passed in a blur of pressure thick enough to choke on.


    Mother had apparently decided to extend her uninvited visit, and her presence filled every corner of the mansion like smoke from a house


    fire.


    The staff moved with the careful efficiency of people trying to avoid being caught in crossfire: <fn51bc> ??? ????? ???????s ??? ?????s??? ?? FιndNovel</fn51bc>


    I found Caesar in the breakfast room,pletely ignorant of the drama stirring around him. He was ying <i>some </i>game on his tablet, his little legs swinging from the chair that was still too big for him.


    “Grandma Eleanor!” he squealed when he saw her,unching himself into her arms with the pure joy only children possess.


    Despite everything, Eleanor’s face softened as she hugged him. “Hello, my darling boy. My goodness, you’ve gotten so thin. Are they not feeding you properly here?”


    The barb was directed at me, obviously, but Caesar just giggled and snuggled closer to her. “Mama makes the best pancakes! And daddy Hunter taught me how to make scrambled eggs yesterday.”


    “Did he?” Eleanor’s eyebrow arched dangerously.


    I took my seat at the head of the table, trying to project calm I didn’t feel. “Where is your mother this morning, buddy?”


    “She’s in her room with ke. They’re talking in whispers.” Caesar looked up from his game with curious eyes. “Is Mama sad? She looked like


    she wanted to cry.”


    My chest tightened. Of course, she was hiding. After the humiliation of this morning, I wouldn’t me her if she never wanted to see me


    again.


    “Hunter,” Eleanor’s voice was sharp with disapproval, “I cannot believe you’re asking about the whereabouts of a maid. A maid you’ve been…


    entertaining.”


    Several staff members froze in their tasks, their eyes darting between us. This was exactly the kind of scene that would have the entire household gossiping within the hour.


    I met Eleanor’s gaze steadily. “Ana, please go ask Celine and ke to join us for breakfast.”


    Ana hesitated, her eyes flicking nervously between my mother and me. The poor girl looked like she would rather dive into shark–infested


    waters.


    “Ana,” I said, my voice dropping to that tone that made board members squirm. “Now.”


    She scurried away toward the west wing like her life depended on it.


    “What exactly do you think you’re doing?” Eleanor demanded, her carefully modted voice finally cracking.


    I ignored her, instead focusing on Caesar, who was watching our exchange with the sharp intelligence he had inherited from both his parents.


    When Ana returned with Celine and ke, the atmosphere in the room became frozen. Celine’s head was down, her shoulders hunched as if she were trying to make herself invisible.


    ke stood protectively beside her friend, shooting daggers at Eleanor with her eyes.


    Caesar waved enthusiastically. “Mamal Aunt ke! Come sit with us!”


    Celine managed a strained smile for her son, but I could see the way her hands trembled slightly as she approached the table.


    “Celine,” I said quietly, “please, sit.”


    She took the chair next to Caesar, still refusing to meet my eyes. ke sat beside her, creating a united front that made my chest ache with something I couldn’t name.


    Eleanor’s voice cut through the air like a de. “I hardly think it’s appropriate for the household staff to dine with the family.”


    ke’s eyes shed. “Now listen here….”


    “ke,” Celine’s voice was barely audible, but firm. “Please don’t.”


    The pain in her tone made me want to put my fist through the wall. Instead, I looked directly at Eleanor, my voice deadly calm.


    “Mother, you have two choices. You can join us for a civilized breakfast with my son and the people I care about, or you can leave my house. But I will not tolerate any more disrespect toward Celine or anyone else under my roof.”


    The silence stretched like a rubber band about to snap.


    Eleanor’s face cycled through shock, anger, and something that might have been hurt before settling into cold calction.


    “People you care about?” she repeated, her voice dangerously quiet.


    Caesar looked up from his pancakes, syrup on his chin<b>, </bpletely unaware that his existence had just be the center of a storm.


    “Grandma Eleanor, do you want to see my drawing? I made it for Mama yesterday.”


    And in that moment, with my three–year–old son offering his innocent joy to a room full of adults who couldn’t get their act together, I realized that everything was about to change.


    Whether we were ready or not.