Chapter 54

After dropping my mother off at the estate, I drove straight to Hunter's apartment. The night air was crisp and invigorating, and during the short drive, I mentally rehearsed various approaches. I desperately needed his help, especially now that my investigation seemed to hit impenetrable walls at every turn.

When I reached his door, I entered the familiar passcode, anticipating that satisfying click of the lock disengaging.

Nothing happened.

I tried again, deliberately pressing each number with precision. Still nothing.

He had changed the code.

Hunter had maintained the same passcode for years, yet now he had deliberately shut me out. Was it because of what transpired at the restaurant? The image of his steel-blue eyes watching me serve food to Lucas flashed through my mind like an accusation.

I could see light spilling from beneath the door, betraying his presence. Taking a deep breath, I rapped my knuckles against the polished wood.

"Hunter? I know you're in there," I called, striving to keep my voice light and casual despite the tension coiling inside me.

Silence greeted me.

"Are you angry?" I tried again, leaning closer to the door, my ear nearly touching the wood.

Still no response. I continued knocking, my patience wearing thin. "I can see the light on in your living room. I know you're deliberately ignoring me!" Despite my efforts to maintain composure, frustration crept into my voice. I wasn't accustomed to being ignored, especially by him.

I persisted with my knocking, each rap more determined than the last. After what felt like an eternity, I finally heard footsteps approaching. The door swung open, and Hunter stood before me in a dark robe, his expression unreadable except for the slight tension between his brows.

"Attorney James," he said, his tone deliberately formal and distant, "we're adversaries now. We should maintain professional distance. Do I need to remind you of that?"

I forced a smile, attempting to mask how his coldness affected me.

"When have we ever maintained distance?" I asked, deliberately blinking up at him with exaggerated innocence. I attempted to slip under his arm into the apartment as I had done countless times before.

His hand shot out with unexpected swiftness, firmly grasping my arm and pulling me back into the hallway. The gesture was controlled but left no room for negotiation.

"Attorney James, please leave. My home is not your refuge," he stated, his voice as cold as winter frost.

Looking at his serious expression, I couldn't help but laugh, though it sounded hollow even to my own ears. This had to be jealousy. I reached out, grasping the lapel of his robe, and leaned in slightly.

"Is Hunter really jealous?" I asked, my heart hammering against my ribs despite my teasing tone.

He swiftly shook off my hand with a dismissive gesture that stung more than I cared to admit. I quickly reached up to smooth my palm against his chest, softening my voice to something approaching tenderness.

"Come on, don't be angry... Lucas and I aren't a couple. My mother arranged that dinner as a matchmaking attempt, and she misunderstood our relationship. That's all."

I continued, words tumbling out too hastily: "Besides, we're just having fun, aren't we? I've never been jealous of your other women. You should be more open-minded, right?"

Even as the words left my lips, I felt a sharp pang of regret. Was that truly how I wanted to define what existed between us? Mere "fun"? I had spoken to protect myself, to ensure he knew I wasn't overly attached. But watching his expression darken further, I couldn't help wondering if I'd made a terrible miscalculation.

"Then the game is over," he declared, his voice slicing through my thoughts like a precision blade. "From now on, we're strangers. That would be better."

Before I could formulate a response, he stepped back and firmly closed the door in my face, the sound reverberating in the empty hallway.

"Hey!" I shouted, anger and hurt surging within me. "You can't just play with me when you want and discard me when you don't! What am I to you, some disposable toy?"

I pounded on the door again, my carefully constructed composure beginning to fracture. Through the narrow gap beneath the door, I watched the living room lights extinguish. The television fell silent. He had truly walked away.

A strange, unfamiliar sense of powerlessness washed over me. I briefly rested my forehead against the cold wood of the door, a bitter smile tugging at my lips.

"When it rains, it pours," I whispered to myself, the old adage never feeling more appropriate.

Standing alone in that empty hallway, I felt the full weight of my situation descending upon me like a physical burden.

Taking a deep breath, I straightened my shoulders and turned away from the door. If Hunter wouldn't help me, I would forge another path forward. I always did.

The next morning, I marched into Huxley & Partners with my head held high, a bag of breakfast pastries dangling from my fingers. Though my exterior projected confidence, doubt flickered beneath the surface—not that I'd ever let it show. The sting of Hunter's cold rejection last night lingered, but I've never been one to surrender easily.

As if the universe conspired to test my patience further, Mike materialized almost immediately, his eyes gleaming with that infuriating curiosity that made me want to roll my eyes.

"Aren't you supposed to be engaged to Lucas? Now you're playing with Hunter again?" he asked with exaggerated seriousness. "Aren't you afraid your fiancé might come after you with a knife?"

Irritation flashed through me. Mike always seemed to delight in stirring trouble between Hunter and me.

"Which eye of yours saw me getting engaged to him?" I retorted sharply.

Mike raised his eyebrows, completely unfazed by my tone. "Your mother announced it herself last night."

I rolled my eyes dismissively. "Go mind your own business. I don't owe you any explanations," I said, brushing past him toward my destination.

My first stop wasn't Hunter's office but his secretary's desk. The young woman glanced up, surprise registering on her face at my early appearance.

"I'd like to book Hunter's time," I declared, transferring a substantial consultation fee to the firm's account while she watched.

"He charges ten thousand per hour, so I'm paying twenty thousand per hour. That makes me a VIP client now, right?" I couldn't keep the hint of smugness from my voice.

The secretary stared at me, utterly bewildered. "Huh?"

I leaned closer, adopting a conspiratorial tone. "Be a dear and push back his other appointments. I'm booking him for the entire day."

"Attorney James, this isn't an escort service..." she replied, her expression hovering between amusement and discomfort.