𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 57: 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐇𝐢𝐦 𝐋𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐲.

𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚’𝐬 𝐍𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐬°°°

The courthouse faded behind the cab’s mirror, its marble columns shrinking into the distance.

Nevena leaned her head against the window, the glass warm beneath the early afternoon sun.

Mateo’s words still echoed faintly in her head — but her hands clutched tightly around the folder, as if it alone could anchor her.

She was yet to sort Antonio’s benevolence from the fog in her thoughts.

The driver, a middle-aged local, fiddled with the radio dial to cut the silence, and a smooth practiced voice filled the small space between them.

> “Today, a major name in Enchanted Hills’ business world will unveil his newest property. Antonio Hunt, widely known for his global hotel investments, will cut the ribbon on The Aurelio Hotel at eleven this morning. The gala is invitation-only, while the public tour is open to all. Live coverage begins shortly—more after traffic.”

“Antonio Hunt.”

The name closed around Nevena like a ring tightening at her throat.

Mateo’s advice and the announcement — together, they were too exact to be coincidence.

If she wanted to see him, to understand his reasons, there was only one place and one time he's guaranteed to be at. Aurelio— by eleven.

She looked at her wristwatch. Ten o’clock.

She glanced back, up at the driver driving. He was watching the road, unremarkable, honest.

“Could you please take a different route?” she requested softly.

The driver glanced at her through the rearview mirror, surprise softening into a professional nod. “Sure, Miss. Which way?”

“Aurelio Hotel”.

“You sure?” he replied with a question, eyebrows lifting. “Main entrance or service road?”

“The main entrance,” she replied, and the cab immediately veered off toward a quieter street.

The ceremony was already in motion when they pulled up to the ivy-walled estate of the Aurelio.

Rows of luxury cars lined the driveway, each one glinting under the early-afternoon sun.

Nevena stepped out, paying with the few bills she suspected Mateo had tucked inside the folder before handing it to her.

Adjusting her plain blouse, she crossed into a crowd of suits and silk dresses.

As she walked, her eyes swept across the massive screens suspended above, she spotted Antonio sitting beneath the pavilion archway, immaculate as ever, his composure as precise as his cufflinks

Around him, politicians, businessmen, and cartel liaisons mingled in a blur of polished deceit.

The scent of tobacco and expensive perfume pressing down like a warning, a reminder that she didn’t belong here. But she moved anyway, straight toward the podium wing.

Security intercepted her before she could even reach, or call out his name.

“I just want to talk to Mr. Hunt!” she cried as they restrained her from going further.

Antonio turned, just for a briefest fraction of second, his eyes cutting through the noise.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, adjusting his tie.

Nevena refused to be silenced by the human barricade, rather her voice only grew louder, desperate enough to stir murmurs in the guests.

Seeing that it was going to blow into a huge commotion, Antonio motioned discreetly to Grinch.

“Send her off with my contact card,” he murmured. Grinch nodded and moved.

“Let her go,” his gruff voice commanded the instant he got there.

The men obeyed the order at once, without basking.

Nevena exhaled shakily, seeing the one person very close to Antonio. “Good morning, sir.”

“Morning, Miss,” Grinch replied with a composed tone. “Apologies for the rough handling. They’re just following protocol.”

“I understand,” she nodded quickly. “Please, can I speak with Mr. Hunt?”

“Sure” Grinch tittered politely, “But I’m afraid not now. He happens to be in the middle of something very important, as you can see.”

“Please— I just need a minute. I promise, it won’t take long.” Nevena pleaded, sensing that he was trying to brush her off.

He sighed, dipping a hand into his pocket. “I’m sorry,” he said, handing her a sleek card. “Here… call him later in the day.”

Her breath caught as the card touched her palm — a small, glossy card with the insignia of a wolf’s head on its surface, inked so finely.

Grinch personally escorted her out, waiting until she boarded a cab before turning away.

Now back in her small guest apartment, Nevena sat at the edge of her bed and pulled out the card. Her thumb tracing the gold ink embossed boldly of his contact number.

This wasn’t the conversation she’d pictured, but it was what fate had given her

Clutching now to the card of hope, she fixed herself a quick meal and settled in, turning on the live telecast to see when the ceremony would end.

When the cameras finally caught Antonio being escorted toward his car, she picked up her phone and thumbed in the number. Dialing.

The line rang once before a woman’s voice answered, smooth and polite.

“Good afternoon. Hunt’s corporation — how may I help you?”

Nevena hesitated. “I’d like to speak with Mr. Hunt, please.”

“Do you have an appointment?” the woman asked.

“No, but Mr. Grinch gave me his card and asked that I call.” Nevena explained, “It’s urgent.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but Mr. Hunt is currently attending the opening of his new hotel at Crescent Estate.”

“Okay…” Nevena swallowed hard. “But ma'am, is it possible that I book an appointment?"

“Yes…but his schedule is completely booked for this week. However, I can schedule you for a meeting next week Tuesday, that is if it is okay with you?”

“That’s okay,” Nevena agreed. “Thank you”

“Alright Ma'am, but please—I will be needing your full name and number to complete this requirement” the woman requested.

“Nevena Bachvarov” She replied before hanging up slowly, her reflection ghosting disappointment and resolve.