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Chapter Nine
publish date:
2026-02-11 20:54:24
Latest chapter
Mrs. Hunt for 30 days Chapter One Hundred and Sixty-One
MitchelleDorian was already at the window when I opened my eyes.I lay still and watched him from the bed without announcing myself. The morning light came through the sheer curtains and fell across his back and shoulders, catching the healing scars from the bullet wounds in a way that made my chest tighten. I got up quietly and crossed the room and wrapped my arms around him from behind, pressing my cheek between his shoulder blades."I cannot believe Geneva is this beautiful," I said softly."Of course it is," he replied, and I could hear the smile in it without seeing his face.He turned around slowly and looked at me in the morning light. Just looked. The way he had been looking at me since he woke up, like he needed to keep confirming I was real.He pulled me in and kissed me slowly, with the particular tenderness of a man who understood exactly how close he had come to never doing this again. When he pulled back his eyes were wet and I had never seen that before.Not once i
Mrs. Hunt for 30 days Chapter One Hundred and Sixty
ChloeJason was in the bathroom again.I sat at the breakfast table staring at my eggs and listening to the particular silence of a man who had stopped pretending he was simply using the bathroom. His phone had gone in with him. It always went in with him now.I pushed my plate away.Three days since the funeral and nothing felt the way Diana had promised it would feel. Victory was supposed to feel clean. Final. Like a door closing on everything that had tried to destroy us.Instead it felt like standing in a room where someone had opened all the windows and the cold was coming in from every direction and nobody could agree on which one to close first.My phone buzzed on the table. A text from Diana popped up“You need to be at my house now. It's urgent.”I read it twice, finished my coffee at my own pace, and drove over.****Diana didn't greet me at the door.She was already moving when I walked in, crossing the living room with the tight clipped energy of someone containing somethi
Mrs. Hunt for 30 days Chapter One Hundred and Fifty-Nine
MitchelleThe discharge papers took forty minutes.I stood at the nurses' station signing everything they put in front of me while Dorian sat in the wheelchair the hospital insisted on, which he was tolerating with the particular strained patience of a man who found the entire arrangement deeply beneath him."I can walk," he told the orderly for the second time."Hospital policy, sir," the orderly replied pleasantly, not looking up.Dorian looked at me.I looked back at him with an expression that said clearly do not fight this battle.He sat back in the wheelchair.When the last form was signed and the last instruction delivered, Dr. Castellano walked us to the exit personally, shaking Dorian's hand at the door with the warm directness of a man who understood exactly what this moment represented."Take it slowly," he told Dorian. "Your body has done extraordinary work. Don't insult it by rushing.""I won't," Dorian replied.Dr. Castellano looked at me."Make sure he doesn't," he said
Mrs. Hunt for 30 days Chapter One Hundred and Fifty-Eight
MitchelleEverything happened at once.The monitors screamed to life, their steady rhythm fractured into urgent irregular beeping. Dr. Castellano was through the door in seconds, his team flooded in behind him, moving with the sharp coordinated efficiency of people trained for exactly this moment.I stepped back automatically, pressing myself against the wall, my eyes never left Dorian's face."Vitals are shifting," one nurse called out."I see it," Dr. Castellano replied, already at the bedside, his hands moved across the equipment with practiced calm. "Give him room."I watched every second of it.His chest rose differently. His fingers no longer just moved but pressed deliberately into the sheets. And then slowly, impossibly, his eyelids were open.Confused at first and unfocused. Moving across the ceiling without landing anywhere specific. Then the confusion began to clear the way fog clears, gradually and then all at once.Dr. Castellano looked at me and nodded once.I was at th
Mrs. Hunt for 30 days Chapter One Hundred and Fifty-Seven
ChloeJason was already at the mirror when I opened my eyes.I watched him through my lashes, not moving, not announcing myself. Just watching. He moved between the wardrobe and the mirror with the practiced efficiency of a man who had long stopped performing for the woman in his bed. Selecting his tie, checking his cufflinks, adjusting his collar with the particular care of someone dressing for a person who wasn't in this room.Like I wasn't there. Like I was furniture he had stopped noticing years ago.His phone lit up on the bed between us.Once, twice then three times in quick succession.He crossed to it without urgency, picked it up, read whatever was on the screen.And smiled.Not at me. Not at anything in this room. At whatever was on that screen. A private, genuine, completely unguarded smile that I had not seen directed at me in longer than I could accurately remember. The kind of smile that belongs to a man who is thinking about someone specific.I kept my breathing even an
Mrs. Hunt for 30 days Chapter One Hundred and Fifty-Six
MitchelleI sat beside Dorian’s hospital bed, as my fingers threaded tightly through his, refusing to let go even for a second. The machines hummed steadily around us, a constant, mechanical heartbeat that had become the soundtrack to my days in Geneva. “The weather here this morning was perfect, Dee,” I whispered, tracing my thumb over his knuckles. “I walked to the little café around the corner from the house, the one with the blue shutters. Got that croissant you would pretend to hate but secretly love. They had it there.” My throat tightened, but I pushed through. I had to keep talking. Silence felt too much like giving up.“I’m trying so hard not to fall apart without you. But God, Dee, it’s been months. Months of pretending I’m strong enough for both of us.”The door stayed closed. The nurses had come and gone earlier, offering sympathetic smiles that never reached their eyes. I hated those smiles. My phone buzzed on the bedside table, jolting me. Danika. I snatched it up,
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