<b>Chapter </b><b>135 </b>


    CELINE’S POV-


    The city lights blurred past the Ferrari’s windows in streaks of gold and white, but something was wrong.


    This was not the route to Hunter’s mansion…I had made that drive enough times to know every turn, everyndmark that signaled we were almost home.


    How different this felt from all those bus rides I used to take as his maid, pressed against the window watching these same streets pass by while squeezing my small purse and thinking about grocery lists and cleaning schedules. <fn9438> Get full chapters from Find★Novel</fn9438>


    “We’re going the wrong way,” I said, my voice cutting through the muggy silence that had settled between us like a living thing.


    Hunter’s hands remained locked on the steering wheel, his knuckles still white with tension.


    He did not even nce in my direction, did not acknowledge that I had spoken at all.


    The silence stretched on, punctuated only by Caesar’s soft breathing from the backseat and the low purr of the engine.


    ‘He won’t hurt us,‘ I told myself, the thought circling through my mind like a desperate prayer.


    ‘He’s angry, he’s hurt by what I did, but that doesn’t mean he’ll actually hurt us. He’s not that kind of man.‘


    But even as I repeated the words, I could not shake the memory of his voice promising punishment, the cold look in his eyes when he had told me I belonged to him.


    This was not the Hunter I had fallen in love with—this was someone else entirely, someone capable of things I did not want to imagine.


    My teeth found my lower lip again, worrying at the already tender skin until I tasted blood.


    The normal nervous habit had be almost endless since everything fell apart, a physical manifestation of the anxiety that never left me


    anymore.


    The Ferrari slowed down and turned into the circr driveway of a tall skyscraper made of ss and steel. This building stood as a symbol of wealth and power.


    The entrance disyed “Golden Lock” inrge, elegant letters. Even from the car, I sensed the exclusive atmosphere surrounding the building..


    A valet in a neat uniform came to Hunter’s window before we had even stopped the car. He had a friendly and professional smile ready.


    This apartment building is special. Celebrities and billionaires use it as a private getaway. Here, people can buy privacy, and getting good service is important.


    I looked up at the tall building through the windshield. I remembered all the times I took the bus past ces like this on my way to Hunter’s


    mansion.


    I used to press my face to the bus window and wonder what kind of people lived in buildings that touched the sky, never imagining I had ever


    set foot in one.


    Now here I was, but not as a guest–as a prisoner.


    Hunter stopped the engine and turned to look at me for the first time since we left the motel. His blue eyes were hard to read in the low light, but his intense stare made me feel aware of his presence.


    70%


    “Get out,” he said simply.


    There was no please, no exnation, no gentleness in his tone.


    He gave amand that required immediate follow–through. When I paused, I noticed his jaw tighten slightly—this was the only sign I would get.


    He didn’t say the same thing twice. Instead, he unlocked his door and stepped outside into the night air.


    He tossed his keys to the waiting valet, who caught them easily.


    Already moving toward the driver’s seat as Hunter opened the back door and carefully lifted Caesar’s sleeping form into his arms.


    My son looked so small and vulnerable against Hunter’s broad chest, his little face peaceful and trusting even in sleep.


    The sight made something twist painfully in my chest–Caesar had no idea that the father he adored had be someone dangerous, someone who saw love and possession as the same thing.


    I fumbled with the door handle, my hands shaking slightly as I finally managed to step out onto the sidewalk.


    The cool night air hit my face like a p, carrying with it the scents of expensive perfume and car exhaust that seemed to define this part of the city.


    The valet greeted Hunter like an old friend, his good–naturedness tinged with genuine warmth. “Evening, Mr. Reid. Good to see you again.”


    “Henry,” Hunter acknowledged with a slight nod, already moving toward the building’s entrance.


    The security guard held the door open for us, his greeting just as familiar. “Mr. Reid, sir. Hope you’re having a good evening.”


    Hunter knew this building well.


    He was a regr visitor and had a ce in this tall, luxury tower filled with secrets. Everything about his interactions showed that this was part of his routine.


    The realization sent a chill down my spine that had nothing to do with the night air.


    The lobby took my breath away despite my growing dread.


    The polished marble floors shone brightly under crystal chandeliers that spread rainbow colors across the ivory walls.


    Fresh orchids in tall vases filled the air with their light scent. In the distance, the gentle sound of water created a calm and elegant


    atmosphere..


    A few people moved through the space gracefully, showing that they were used to luxury. Some nodded at Hunter, respecting him as


    someone with real power.


    Others were more familiar, calling out greetings that spoke of deeper rtionships.


    “Hunter! Darling, I haven’t seen you in ages!”


    The voice belonged to a stunning brte in a designer dress that probably cost more than most people’s monthly sry.


    She walked towards us confidently, as if she were used to being noticed. She reached out her perfectly manicured fingers to touch Hunter’s arm in greeting.


    “When are we going to have that dinner you promised?” she purred, her eyes sliding over him with unmistakable hunger.


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    More women appeared as if drawn by some invisible signal, each one more beautiful and polished than thest.


    They surrounded Hunter like moths to a me, theirughter bright and practiced as theypeted for his attention.


    “Hunter, call me soon!”


    “We should do lunch this week!”


    “Don’t be such a stranger!”


    I watched with increasing anger as Hunter responded to their greetings with small smiles and vague answers.


    These women knew him well enough to befortable with casual touches and suggested invitations. They knew him well enough to expect his attention.


    Jealousy burned through my chest like acid, mixing with humiliation and rage until I could barely breathe.


    Some of the women’s eyes found me, taking in my rumpled clothes and tear–stained face with expressions that ranged from curiosity to barely hidden hate.


    I felt like a stray cat that had wandered into a room full of pedigreed show animals.


    ‘I lookpletely out of ce,‘ I realized with crushing certainty.


    ‘They can <i>see </i>exactly what I am–someone who doesn’t belong in their world.‘


    The thought of all those bus rides to work, counting coins for fare while these women probably never touched public transportation, made the difference even sharper.


    Hunter turned slightly toward me, his voice cutting through the social chatter. “Follow me.”


    It wasn’t a request.


    He was already moving toward the elevators, Caesar still sleeping peacefully in his arms, leaving me no choice but to trail behind him like an


    obedient pet.