<b>Chapter 120 </b>


    ylist suggestion:


    “Cinnamon girl” by Lana del Ray


    -CELINE’S POV-


    A sat curled up at the dining table, my head resting on my knees as I stared at the two–million–dor check Hunter’s mother had given me.


    The elegant script of Eleanor Reid’s signature seemed to mock me from the expensive paper, each zero feeling like another nail in the coffin of my happiness.


    The thought of leaving Hunter gued my mind.


    I trailed my finger along the check’s edge, his mother’s cruel words echoing in my head–how Hunter would never marry me, how she could take everything from me if I didn’t disappear willingly.


    My eyes drifted to the room where Caesar was sleeping peacefully, blissfully unaware that his entire world might be about to change.


    My mind debated endlessly: take Caesar and leave quietly, or tell Hunter about his mother’s ultimatum and watch their family tear itself apart because of me.


    I told myself I loved Hunter–God, I loved him <i>so </i>much that the thought of leaving him made my heart physically ache.


    But staying with him meant dragging Caesar into drama he shouldn’t be subjected to, meant watching Hunter destroy his rtionship with his mother, meant living with the constant fear that Eleanor Reid would find other ways to make our lives miserable.


    Tears slipped from my eyes as I remembered how smoothly things had been going between Hunter and me.


    The perfect date, the way he’d made love to me with such tenderness, the way he looked at Caesar like he was something precious.


    It had felt like we were building something real, somethingsting.


    A sudden knock on the door pulled me from my spiral of despair. I quickly wiped my tears and scrambled to hide the check under some papers before going to answer.


    “Who is it?” I called softly, not wanting to wake Caesar. <fn967b> ???s ??????? ?s ?????? ?? Find~Novel</fn967b>


    “It’s me.”


    Hunter’s voice was unmistakable, but something was different about it.


    I unlocked the door and found him standing there, reeking of alcohol and wearing a smile that seemed both genuine and heartbreaking.


    I stared at him in surprise)


    I was used to Hunter being controlled,posed….even when he’d been drinking before, he’d maintained that rigid posture. But this was different.


    This was Hunter with his wallspletely down.


    “Celine,” he said my name like a prayer, pulling me into his arms before I could react.


    He held me tight, mumbling against my hair about how much he’d missed me, how much he loved me.


    <b>13:08 </b>Tue, <b>5 </b><b>Aug </b>


    The scent of expensive whiskey clung to him, and I could feel the weight of whatever had driven him to drink so heavily tonight.


    I gently pulled back from his embrace, my heart breaking at the vulnerability in his eyes.


    “Come on,” I whispered, guiding him inside and toward the couch. “Sit down before you fall.“.


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    Hunter copsed onto the small sofa with less grace than I’d ever seen from him, his usually perfect hair disheveled, his tie loosened and hanging askew.


    I ran a hand through my own hair, trying to process this new development. “Hunter, why do you alwayse home drunktely?”


    He smiled…that boyish, unguarded smile that made him look years younger. “Vincent was being a jerk, saying I can’t hold my liquor.”


    Despite everything, I felt a small smile tug at my lips. “So you wanted to prove him wrong?”


    “Something like that,” he mumbled, watching me as I knelt to help him out of his expensive dress shoes.


    I could feel his gaze on me as I worked, and when I lifted my head, our eyes met. He was studying my face with an intensity that made my breath catch, even in his intoxicated state.


    I stared back from where I was kneeling, my heart aching as I remembered his mother’s words. The woman was probably right….this couldn’tst.


    Women like me didn’t end up with men like Hunter Reid. We were temporary diversions, pleasant distractions until reality reasserted itself.


    I stood up abruptly, needing distance from those piercing blue eyes that seemed to see too much.


    “I’ll get you some water,” I said, my voice slightly hoarse. “Maybe that’ll help sober you up.”


    But before I could take a step, Hunter’s hand shot out and caught my wrist, his grip gentle but firm.


    “Have you been crying?” he asked, his voice softer now, more focused despite the alcohol.


    I forced out augh that sounded hollow even to my own ears. “Are you so drunk that you’re seeing things now?”


    I tried to free my hand, but he held on, his thumb brushing over my wrist in a gesture so tender it made my chest tight.


    “I’m sorry,” he said suddenly, his voice thick with emotion. “About my mother. About what she said to you this morning. She had no right to speak to you that way. She was wrong.”


    The sincerity in his voice nearly undid me. I forced a smile and shook my head. “I’m okay, Hunter. Really. Don’t fight with your mother because of me…..that would only make me feel worse.”


    Hunterughed, but there was no humor in it. “You know what made me fall in love with you?” he said, his words slightly slurred but his meaning crystal clear.


    “Your kindness. Even now, after she hurt you, you’re worried about protecting her feelings. You always try to see the best in everyone.”


    My heart clenched painfully. He had it backwards….I wasn’t kind, I was a coward. A truly brave woman would fight for the man she loved, would stand up to his mother, and would refuse to be bought off.


    “Let me get you that water,” I said again, but he still didn’t release my wrist.


    “I’m not like that,” he continued, his voice dropping to almost a whisper. “I’m not a good person, Celine. The Reid blood runs so deep in me, it’s beginning to take shape. I can feel myself bing like them….cold, calcting, ruthless.”


    13:08 Tue, 5 Aug


    You’re wrong. I thought desperately.


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    He wasn’t like his mother. He was kind underneath all that armor, different even though he tried to use his cold facade to push everyone away.


    A truly cold man wouldn’t love Caesar the way Hunter did, wouldn’t look at my son like he was a gift. He wasn’t perfect, but he was so much better than they painted him to be.


    “I’ll get you that water,” I said softly, and this time he let me go.


    I walked to the small kitchen on unsteady legs, fetching a ss and filling it with cold water.


    My eyes involuntarily went to where I’d hidden the check, Eleanor Reid’s weapon of choice.


    I stared at Hunter’s back where he sat slumped on the couch, debating whether I should tell him about his mother’s visit, about the ultimatum.


    My mind reyed the scene from this morning….Hunter and his mother were arguing because of me, and the hurt in Eleanor’s eyes when Hunter had said those awful things to her.


    No mother should have to hear such words from her child.


    Even though my own mother was far from perfect, ying favorites between Jesse and me, I still loved her regardless of her ws.


    I sighed, running my free hand through my hair.


    I was so tired…not from work, but from everything. From constantly feeling like I wasn’t enough, from fighting battles I wasn’t equipped to win, from loving someone whose world was so far removed from mine.


    I returned to Hunter and handed him the ss. He took it, stared at the water for a moment as if contemting its purpose, then drank it down in severalrge gulps.


    “Thank you,” he said, handing the empty ss back to me.


    I ced it on the small coffee table, then straightened. “I’ll get you a nket in case you decide to crash here tonight.”


    But before I could move, Hunter grabbed my wrist again, this time pulling me down onto hisp. Inded with a soft gasp, my hands instinctively going to his shoulders for bnce.


    “Hunter, what are you doing?” I asked, my voice breathless from the sudden proximity.


    He reached up and brushed a strand of hair away from my face, his fingers trailing along my cheek with heartbreaking gentleness.


    Then his thumb traced my lower lip, and I couldn’t help the sharp intake of breath that followed.


    “Tell me,” he said, his blue eyes searching mine intently. “Who made you cry? Did my mothere here after I left? Did she say more horrible things to you?”


    I shook my head quickly. “I just… I got something in my eyes earlier. That’s all.”


    He studied my face for what felt like an eternity, and I couldn’t tell whether he believed me or not. But then he smiled…that rare, genuine smile that transformed his entire face.


    “I will never let my mother hurt you or Caesar,” he said with quiet conviction. “You’re under my protection now, both of you. I’ll do anything to keep you safe.”


    13.00


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    The words should have beenforting, but instead, they made my heart hurt worse. He was making promises he might not be able to keep, offering protection that could cost him everything.


    I managed a smile in return, even as my heart felt like it was breaking. “I know.”


    Hunter closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the couch, suddenly looking exhausted.


    The alcohol was catching up with him, but he seemed more rxed now, more at peace.


    “Hunter?” I called softly.


    “Mmm?” he responded without opening his eyes.


    “If… if I were to leave, if Caesar and I weren’t here anymore… would you be hurt?”


    His eyes snapped open, immediately alert despite his intoxicated state. “What? Why would you ask that? Is something wrong?”


    I shook my head quickly. “No, nothing’s wrong. It’s just…. a hypothetical question.”


    Hunter stared at me for a <b>long </b>moment, his gaze sharp and searching. Something flickered in his expression…suspicion, fear, I couldn’t tell which.


    “You and Caesar aren’t going anywhere,” he said finally, his voice firm despite the slight slur.


    “But to answer your question.. Yes, I would be devastated. You’re my family now, both of you. I have no intention of ever letting either of you go.”


    The words hit me like a physical blow. “Family: The word I’d always longed to hear,ing from the lips of the man I loved more than life itself.


    “Especially you,” he continued, his handing up to cup my cheek. “You’re mine, Celine. You belong to me, and I belong to you. That’s not something I take lightly.”


    I stared at him, stunned by the possessiveness in his voice, by the certainty.


    “You can’t run from me,” he said, his thumb stroking across my cheekbone. “No matter where you try to go, I’ll find you, I’ll bring you home to me, always. So don’t even dream of leaving, because I won’t let you.”


    I let out a shakyugh, trying to hide how his words affected me. “You’re crazy.”


    “I’m crazy for you,” he replied without hesitation. “Only for you.”


    And then he was pulling me closer, his hand tangling in my hair as his lips met mine.