Chapter 8

I ran out of the bar, my heart pounding in a rhythm I couldn’t control. Why? I didn’t even have a reason—just the overwhelming need to get the hell away from that suffocating space. Hunter’s words echoed in my mind: Don’t you miss your daughter?

Miss her? That question didn’t just sting—it ripped open a wound I’d been holding together with the fragile threads of distraction and denial. Of course I missed her. Every second of every day. Every minute not spent mixing drinks, my mind would drift to her. And then, in the loneliness masked by the bar’s noise, I’d bite my wrist to hold back the tears that always threatened to spill.

“Tiffany!” Hunter’s voice chased me down the street. I ignored him, my feet moving faster.

Before I could get too far, his hand gripped mine, forcing me to stop. “Why’d you run off like that?”

“Why?” I snapped, whirling around to face him. “Hunter, you just asked me about my daughter, and you expect me to stay calm?”

“So, you do have a daughter,” he said, a sly grin spreading across his face.

I wanted to punch that grin right off him, but as annoying as he was, I couldn’t bring myself to ruin his face. “Yes, I have a daughter,” I said through gritted teeth. “And my situation doesn’t concern you.” I started walking again, the rage fueling my steps.

“It was just small talk, Tiff,” he called after me.

I stopped dead in my tracks and spun around. “Small talk? Do you have any idea what I go through every single day? The thoughts that haunt me? The fear that grips me whenever I see a police car drive by?” My voice cracked, betraying the storm swirling inside. “It’s not just trauma—it’s my life now.”

“Did Ash tell you about my daughter?” My eyes narrowed, suspicion lacing my words. If Ash had spilled my secrets, so help me…

“No, she didn’t. I just have a natural curiosity,” Hunter said, his smirk returning.

“Guess what? I hate curious people,” I muttered before walking off again.

But, of course, I heard his footsteps behind me. His persistence was grating. Was this his so-called curiosity at work, or was he just being annoying now?

I halted abruptly, forcing him to stop too. Without turning, I asked, “What do you want, Hunter?”

“Dinner. Have dinner with me.”

“I don’t have time for that,” I said, already thinking about the next move in my desperate plan to get Autumn back.

“It’s just dinner…” His voice lowered as he leaned in close to my ear, his next words sending ice through my veins. “…Elaine.”

I froze. My entire body went cold. He knows.

I turned slowly to face him, my expression carefully guarded despite the panic clawing at my insides. “You know who I am?”

“I’ve known since the first time I saw you,” he admitted, his smirk widening. “I made you a fake ID, Tiff. Did you really think I wouldn’t snoop?”

He had a point. Curiosity might as well have been his middle name.

“So now what?” My voice trembled, betraying the fear I couldn’t hide.

“Relax. I’m not turning you in.” His tone was casual, as if this was just another ordinary conversation. “But… have dinner with me.”

My brow furrowed. “You’re blackmailing me into a meal?”

“It’s not blackmail,” he said with a shrug, already walking away. “Think of it as an incentive.”

I followed him, silently cursing myself for being so predictable. “Where are we going?”

“There’s a restaurant just down the street.”

“Funny how I’ve never noticed it,” I muttered.

“That’s because you never notice anything around you,” he replied, his tone tinged with something close to concern.

We stopped in front of a small but charming eatery. The scent of freshly baked bread wafted through the open door. Inside, it was cozy, with soft lighting and warm, earthy tones. A bell jingled as we walked in, and a waiter greeted us, leading us to a table by the window.

After placing our orders, I leaned forward, my arms crossed on the table. “So, what now?”

“What about now?” he asked, his expression infuriatingly nonchalant.

“Hunter, you know I’m Elaine Rivera. Do you have any idea how risky that is for both of us?”

He chuckled. “What are you going to do? Throw me in a well to keep me quiet?”

“This isn’t some movie,” I hissed. “This is real life. My life.”

“And nothing’s going to happen. Trust me.”

The waiter returned with our food, interrupting the tension.

“You know,” Hunter said, stabbing his fork into his risotto, “Ash told me you barely eat.”

“Is there a point to?” I replied, pushing my food around with little interest.

“It’s not healthy. You look like a stiff wind could knock you over. Is that how you plan to get your daughter back?”

“How do you even know about her?” I demanded, my voice low but sharp.

“You stare at her picture every day,” he said simply. “I put the pieces together.”

I sighed. “I have a plan,” I admitted.

“Care to share?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know who I can trust anymore.”

Hunter leaned closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “You can trust me.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “That’s funny coming from the guy blackmailing me into dinner.”

He laughed, the sound genuine and disarming. “Fair enough. But for what it’s worth, I want to help.”

I studied him, trying to decipher his motives. He was an enigma, a blend of charm and mischief, and for reasons I couldn’t quite grasp, I wanted to believe him.

“The Rivera family is hosting a charity ball this Saturday,” I said quietly. “I plan to go.”

Hunter’s expression darkened. “You can’t just walk in there. You’ll get caught.”

I shrugged. “Ash said the same thing, but I don’t have another option. I need to see Autumn. Just seeing her will remind me why I’m fighting.”

Hunter tapped his fork against his plate thoughtfully. “I think I can help you with that.”

A flicker of hope ignited in my chest. “Really?”

He grinned. “Really. But we’ll need a plan. Together.”