Chapter 34
BRENDA'S POV
For two days, I had been eagerly waiting by the phone. Not casually waiting. Not the kind of waiting where you continue with life and occasionally glance at the device.
No.
I hovered around it like it held oxygen.
Hoping that the hunter would call.
On the third day, I sat on a couch close to the phone. Close enough to hear even the faintest tremor of a ring. I was wearing a knitted sweater and my reading glasses. For some reason, Tuscany pulled me to newspapers. Old ones. New ones. Local, international. I had one in my hands, pretending to read through it.
But I hadn't absorbed a single word.
Every sound in the house made my heart misstep.
Someone sank onto the couch next to me.
"You know, pretending to be reading and sitting next to the phone won't make him call!" she sighed.
She was sweating — obviously coming from her daily jog. Her skin glistened, chest rising and falling steadily from exertion, while I… I was exhausted from waiting.
I put the newspaper down slowly.
"He will. I know it!"
I didn't know how I knew. I just did. The certainty wasn't logical — it was instinctual. Like something had already tethered us and was just waiting to tighten.
"I wonder what made you gravitate towards that man. Luckily I didn't see him, maybe I would have understood." She paused, then looked at me in a way that stripped away my defenses. "Are you over Christian?"
I couldn't answer that.
And she knew the reason why.
Christian wasn't just a man I dated. He was a war I survived. A love that burned down everything and left me rebuilding from ash.
"I don't want you to confuse attraction with love! Neither do I want you to hurt someone's son in a bid to forget about that sorry excuse of a man!"
The anger leaked through her words like acid. Protective. Fierce.
What she said was understandable.
But if only she knew.
If only she knew that it was more than mere attraction. The pull towards him was something deeper. Something intense. Something that felt ancient. Like a forgotten feeling I once had — one that I needed to feel again or risk going numb forever.
The house phone's ring cut through the silence.
Not gently.
It sliced through the room.
Our eyes darted to the phone at the same time. My pulse spiked so hard I thought she could see it beating beneath my sweater.
I let it ring for a moment.
Just to breathe.
Just to steady the tremor in my fingers.
Then I rose and picked it up.
"Hello?"
"Hello Señora!"
His voice pierced my skin and settled on my bones. It didn't just enter my ears — it spread. Warm. Slow. Claiming territory inside me.
"Hunter!" I finally let out.
My voice betrayed me. It sounded like yearning. Like I had been starving.
"How are you, Luna? I could've called earlier but things got a bit tied up!"
I glanced back at Nella and raised my eyebrows. She threw her hands in surrender.
"Okay, I'm going!" she mouthed, disappearing down the hallway.
I was alone.
With him.
"I'm fine. How about you?"
"Bien."
I could hear his breathing.
Measured.
Controlled.
The kind of breathing where you hold thoughts in your lungs before releasing them carefully.
"So tell me… are you a permanent resident of Italy? Is Monte Carlos your home?"
"What's Monte Carlos?" I asked.
I genuinely had no idea.
He chuckled — low, amused, rich.
"The house you're currently in is known as the Monte Carlos residency. That house is like a family heirloom. It was passed down from generation to generation, so it's pretty old."
I began relaxing as the conversation unfolded. My shoulders softened. My grip on the receiver eased.
"So you don't live in Tuscany? Or Italy to be precise?"
I shook my head like he was right in front of me.
"I live somewhere in the world. Just not Italy."
Mystery tasted sweet.
He asked me what I did for a living.
For a split second — just one reckless second — I almost told him everything.
But where's the fun in that?
He liked the mystery.
And so did I.
"I am a sales representative."
The lie rolled off my tongue smoothly.
God.
I'd gotten good at lying.
"I do bad things for a living."
Silence.
Not light silence.
Heavy silence.
The kind that presses against your ears.
I held my breath.
"I'm a Don. A mafia king. I kill people when I have to. I'm cold to people, Luna. Only a few people are let into my life. I also do illegal things. I do it to survive because in our world, it's kill or be killed."
He didn't dramatize it.
He stated it.
Like he was telling me the weather forecast.
A huge lump formed in my throat. I tried to swallow it down but it only pushed tears to my eyes.
Though scared… my hand clung to the telephone tighter.
He wasn't flames.
He was molten lava.
Thick. Hot. Slow. Consuming everything in its path.
This is Italy! What did I expect? Him to be a janitor or corporate lawyer?
Dummy.
"You have entered my brain without my permission," he continued. "Strode into my thoughts and slowly… you're marking most things I do."
My breath stuttered.
Hunter was talking to me like we met a long time ago.
We weren't even dating.
Not even friends.
Just two strangers standing at the edge of something dangerous.
"Hunter…" I breathed.
My voice caught between disbelief and something far more dangerous.
Desire.
"We'll talk later, Señora."
He hung up.
Just like that.
I stared at the phone long after the dial tone died.
My legs felt wobbly as I walked to my room.
A criminal had me on his radar.
And I was not even scared.
That terrified me more than anything.
BACK HOME
I was back at the office, going on about my job. Hunter and I had been in contact, although I used a landline registered under false names. I didn't want over familiarity this time around.
My door opened.
My body instantly stiffened.
Kai walked in like the office belonged to his ancestors. Arrogant as always, he offered himself a seat without permission.
"You look beautiful, Belair!" He beamed like he won a medal from NASA for being the first man to walk for hours on the sun.
"And you still look as ugly as ever."
My tone stank of sarcasm. I carefully lowered the pencil I was using onto the table. Controlled. Calm. Professional.
He chuckled.
I didn't understand what was so amusing.
"I came here with a complaint about my orders!"
"There is a team on the east wing who are just about the right people to deal with such. You would have known if you had inquired at the reception instead of just walking into my office like it's a frat house!"
I seethed gently.
Here, I was CEO.
Not his ex.
Kai shifted in his seat and deliberately placed his elbow on my desk. He took his time looking at me — scanning me like he was remembering things I had buried.
At the moment, Kai was my second biggest client.
A factor in my company.
"I want out!" he blurted.
My expression shifted from annoyance… to rage… to confusion.
Out?
"Out as in out of this office or…?" I asked, even though I knew exactly what he meant.
I just wished I didn't.
"Come on, Belair… don't play dumb…" he shook his head. "It doesn't suit you."
It felt like my lungs were being washed in bleach. Oxygen drained from my chest.
"Why? Give me a tangible reason as to why you don't want our distillery to be your club's main supplier?"
My voice was steady.
But my pulse wasn't.
"Let's just say… I've found another distillery."
He pouted like a child.
He locked his eyes onto mine — searching. Testing. Wanting to see if I would break.
"Or we can reach an agreement…"
I squinted in suspicion.
"What agreement?"
"Take me back and I'll triple my order."
The audacity.
The manipulation.
He was dangling my company's stability like bait.
I bore holes into him with my gaze. The strength inside me flickered — not gone, just rattled.
Kai stood.
Both hands on the table, leaning closer to my face. Invading my space. Trying to force old power dynamics back into place.
"I'll give you time, Belair. But I'll be back for my answer. It might be tonight, tomorrow… next month… or next year."
He winked.
I watched him walk out.
Only when the door shut did I feel air return to my lungs.
If Kai left, the distillery would drop profits by nine percent.
Not catastrophic.
But it was the timing.
I had just increased staff salaries.
This was the last thing I needed.