جميع فصول : الفصل -الفصل 210

~HUNTER’S POV~{PLAYLIST SUGGESTION: “YUKON” by Justin Bieber}The first thing I registered when I woke wasn’t the glare of the Vegas sun filtering through the curtains. It was her.Celine, stretched out across my chest, her hair a dark spill of silk, the weight of her ring hand pressed against me like an anchor.For a moment, I let myself do something I rarely allowed: ‘breathe.’No meetings. No responsibilities. No shadows. Just the steady rhythm of her breath, the faint scent of champagne and hotel sheets, and the quiet certainty that for once in my life, I hadn’t let something good slip through my hands.I traced my thumb over her ring, the diamond catching slivers of morning light. She stirred, blinking awake, her lashes brushing my skin.“Morning, Mrs. Reid,” I murmured.Her lips curved into a sleepy smile that damn near knocked me flat. “Morning, Mr. Reid.”God, if I could freeze this moment, I would.We ordered breakfast in bed—croissants, fruit, eggs, coffee. Celine teased me

~HUNTER'S POV~The pool hall smelled of whiskey and smoke, that particular Vegas brand of sin disguised as relaxation. Neon signs buzzed overhead, casting blue and red glows across worn felt tables. The sound of balls cracking echoed, mingling with low hums of drunken laughter.Caesar sat at the corner booth, legs swinging as he munched on a mountain of fries and sipped apple juice from a plastic cup. Every so often, he would clap when someone sank a ball, like this was the grandest show on earth.I couldn't take my eyes off him. My son. My boy. Watching him laugh in a room full of men and smoke should have unsettled me. Instead, it grounded me. Like he belonged here, tucked under my protection even in the roughest places."Of all people, you beat me to the altar?" Frederick's booming voice cut across the table. He clapped me hard on the shoulder, nearly spilling my drink. "On my bachelor weekend? You're insane, Reid."The others roared with laughter.I smirked, taking a slow sip

~HUNTER’S POV~ I sucked her clit into my mouth, flicking my tongue over it as my fingers thrust deeper, faster, until she was screaming my name, her body convulsing around me.When she finally stilled, I stood, lifting her into my arms as she clung to me, her legs wrapped around my waist. I carried her to the shower, the hot water cascading over us, washing away the sweat and the tension, leaving only the raw, aching need that had always defined us.I pressed her against the wall, my mouth claiming hers in a kiss that was desperate, hungry, as if we’d never touched before. Her hands roamed over me, her fingers tracing the muscles of my chest, my arms, her nails scraping my skin as she pulled me closer.“I need you inside me,” she whispered, her voice hoarse, her eyes burning with desire. “Now, Hunter. Please.”I didn’t make her wait. My pants were already discarded, my erection throbbing, aching for her. I positioned myself at her entrance, teasing her with the tip before sliding

~HUNTER’S POV~The garden glowed with soft golden light, lanterns strung through the trees like captured fireflies. A string quartet played somewhere near the fountain, their music weaving through the low hum of conversation and laughter. The reception was in full swing. Caroline was radiant in her pearls and satin, Frederick held her like she was spun out of silk, and guests drifted between champagne towers and the dance floor.I stood near the edge of the crowd, a tumbler of bourbon in hand, surrounded by Caroline’s parents—my uncle and aunt. They’d always carried themselves with a kind of Old New York dignity, the kind that made people step aside without realizing they were doing it.“So, Hunter,” Aunt Elizabeth said, tilting her head, eyes sharp as ever, “where’s Eleanor? I assumed she wouldn’t miss her goddaughter’s wedding for the world.”The question was unavoidable. I had prepared for it, but still, the words felt heavy on my tongue.“She’s…occupied,” I said smoothly, forcin

~HUNTER POV~The glass 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 she landed on the rug with a thud.I lifted my eyes slowly from the paper.And what I saw almost made me laugh.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 claws.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 h