<b>Chapter </b>209


    HUNTER POV-


    The ss of whiskey burned as it slid down my throat. I was sitting in my private corner of the bar–the same restaurant I had seized from my mother when she crossed the line one too many times.


    The irony wasn’t lost on me: the bar she once used to charm senators and CEOS was now mine, stripped of her power.


    I was reviewing contracts when the heavy sound of boots echoed. Derek entered, dragging Jesse across the floor like she was trash he had picked up on the side of the road.


    He tossed her hard, and shended on the rug with a thud.


    I lifted my eyes slowly from the paper.


    And what I saw almost made meugh.


    Jesse Brown. The famous Jesse. The one Celine had grown up chasing after, trying to measure herself against.


    The girl who had always been dressed perfectly, who had the best grades, the brightest smile, the sharpest ws.


    Now she looked like a washed–up roadside night girl. Her hair was wild, stiff with spray and grease. Her makeup was too thick, smudged around her bloodshot eyes.


    Her dress was short, cheap, and did nothing but expose skin.


    Beautiful, yes, but never in the same league as Celine. Celine’s beauty was born of light and survival. Jesse’s was now only a ghost of what it used to be.


    I sighed, tossed the file aside, and reached for my whiskey again.


    The door creaked, and Vincent strolled in, as casual as if this were a poker night. He spotted me, then Jesse, and a wicked grin spread across his face.


    “Well, hell. If you wantedpany for a midday drink, Hunter, you could’ve told


    <b>11:14 </b>Tue<b>, </b><b>Sep </b><b>9 </b>


    me to bring two escorts.” He smirked at Jesse. “Or is the show already starting?”


    “Shut up,” I muttered, pouring him a ss anyway.


    “Yes, boss,” Vincent teased with augh, taking the seat opposite me.


    Jesse tried to cross her legs, but it only made her desperation more obvious. Her hands shook as she tugged her skirt down, her eyes darting around the room like a cornered rabbit.


    I leaned back. My voice was calm, steady. Deadly.


    “What did I say about you contacting Celine again?”


    She flinched. Her lips parted, but for a second no words came. Then, bravely….or stupidly….she tried.


    “I wasn’t going to, I swear. But… the situation at home… It’s bad. I had no choice.”


    I almostughed. Vincent did, scoffing into his ss.


    “You had no choice?” I repeated, my eyes narrowing.


    “She’s still my sister,” Jesse said, her voice small but stubborn.


    That made meugh. A sharp, humorless sound that echoed in the empty bar.


    “Your sister?” I shook my head. “She’s only your sister when your life is falling apart. Every other time? She’s nothing to you. Worse than nothing. A stain you and your mother tried to erase.”


    Jesse swallowed hard, her mascara–streaked face twitching.


    “Families fight,” she muttered. “But that doesn’t make us enemies.”


    Vincent leaned back, amused. “Listen to this one. A poet.”


    I tapped my finger on the table slowly, letting the silence stretch, letting her nerves build. Then, without warning, I grabbed my ss and flung it.


    It smashed into the wall behind her, exploding into glittering pieces. She screamed, covering her head, curling in on herself like a child.


    <b>11:15 </b><b>Tue</b><b>, </b><b>Sep 9 </b>


    Vincent chuckled. “Bad aim, brother. You almost missed.”


    I flexed my wrist, pretending it hurt. “The next one won’t.”


    Se vouchers!


    Vincent leaned forward, his smile sharp as a knife. “You hear that? Next time, <b>it’s </b>your blood decorating this floor.”


    “I–I–I’m sorry!” Jesse’s voice cracked as she shook. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”


    I let the silence stretch again until she was trembling in the dirt of the rug. Then I rxed back in my chair, voice low.


    “Now you sound sober. Let’s talk again.”


    ****************************


    I should have ignored herst night when she stepped out of the shadows at my home, when she dared speak to Celine. Celine had acted strong, had walked away with that smile of freedom I loved.


    But I wasn’t fooled.


    I knew my


    wife.


    Even if she didn’t show it, part of her was shaken. Part of her still wanted to understand why the people she once loved now only brought her pain.


    And that was enough reason for me to act.


    I wasn’t going to let this rot linger. I wasn’t going to let anyone risk Celine’s peace.


    But I also couldn’t erase them from existence. As much as I wanted to, these people–this woman curled in front of me–were still her family. They had raised her, even if poorly. They had shaped her, even if with cruelty.


    So I would not kill them. But I would remind them of their ce.


    I leaned forward, voice t. “You’re only breathing because I allow it.”


    Jesse whimpered.


    <b>11:15 </b><b>Tue</b><b>, </b><b>Sep </b><b>9 </b>


    ??? ???? ????


    “You’re going to keep your promise,” I continued. “You will stay away from <b>Celine</b>. Forever. If you don’t…”


    let the words hang, then finished, cold as death. “…then you’ll be joining your mother in the hospital. Except unlike her, you won’t be walking out again.”


    Jesse curled tighter, shaking violently. I stood. My chair scraped back against the wooden floor. Vincent stood too, stretching, smirking.


    “Guess that’s our cue,” he said.


    We walked past her, but as I reached the door, I felt a weak tug on my leg. Jesse’s hand clutched my trousers, filthy and desperate.


    Derek moved instantly, ready to drag her off, but I crouched down instead. One knee pressed into the rug. I grabbed her hair, forcing her head up so her eyes met


    mine.


    “Don’t touch me with those filthy hands again,” I growled. <fn7930> Latest content published on find[f]ovel</fn7930>


    Her face twisted in pain, tears spilling, snot dripping. She was a ruin of herself.


    Vincent grimaced in disgust. “God. Cry prettier, girl. Self–pity is not your color.”


    I released her roughly, standing again, wiping my hand as though touching her had dirtied me.


    I was halfway to the door before I paused. Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out a bundle of cash and tossed it at her feet. The bills scattered across the floor.


    She looked at it like it was poison.


    “That’s thest money you’ll ever see from me,” I said tly. “Thest shred of respect I’ll give you for being Celine’s blood.”


    I turned my head slightly, eyes like steel.


    “From here on, every tie is cut. If you ever approach my wife again… I won’t


    hesitate.”


    And with that, I walked out, Vincent’s footsteps light beside mine, Derek mming the door behind us. Behind that door, Jesse’s sobs filled the quietness<b>, </b>


    <b>11:15 </b>Tue<b>, </b>Sep <b>9 </b>


    broken, ugly.


    And for the first time, I felt nothing.