I remain still as she air kisses my cheeks to keep myself from pushing her face first into the fucking table.
“How lovely of you to invite me to your home,” she sings. “I admit, I was surprised by your invitation given the fact we’ve never had the opportunity to spend time getting to know one another properly.”
“The pleasure will be all mine,” I say, without informing her that I found out all I need to know about her when she hired me to kill her stepdaughter. But, unfortunately for Regina, she doesn’t know that Chase Huntington and The Hunter are one in the same.
She holds her hand over her chest and pretends to shy away from what she perceives as a compliment. “You know,” she rests the palm of her hand on my lapel. “Today I learned that you are not what they say you are.” She smiles slyly.
Jimmy pulls out a chair for her at one end of the long table, and I’m grateful to him because the move forces her to go take her seat. I unbutton my jacket and take the other.
“Oh?” I ask, taking a sip of red wine. “What is it that they say about me?”
Regina doesn’t fumble over her words or appear to be embarrassed repeating them as others would be. “They say that you are disinherited. Broke.” She wags a long white fingernail across the table at me. “But I’ve recently learned you are the owner of the majority of the shares in Blanca Enterprises and will be joining me on the board.”
“Disinherited, yes. But broke?” I wave a hand around to the opulent decor of the large dining room draped in furnishings that cost more than most people dream of making in a lifetime. “Obviously not.”
“A self-made man,” she laughs, taking a sip of wine. “Just the kind I like.”
You mean, just the kind of money you like. Although, Regina doesn’t really care if the money is old or new as long as the possibility of her getting her hands on it exists.
“So, I guess that means we will be working closely together?” She drawls seductively, leaning over the table to showcase her ample tits.
I pick up my steak knife and toy with it, flipping it over my knuckles. Resisting the urge to send it sailing into her forehead. “Business is not why I’ve asked you here,” I say, unable to carry on this charade for one second longer.
Regina sits back and runs a slender finger over the rim of her wineglass then sucks the tip of her finger into her mouth. “I was hoping you’d say that,” she says, misunderstanding my remark.
I chuckle at her attempt, and she frowns in reply. My guess is that Regina isn’t used to rejection, and it thrills me to no end to be the one to give it to her.
I straighten in my chair and take another sip of wine. “Regina, I didn’t invite you over here to talk business, and I certainly didn’t invite you over here to seduce you.”
She sets her wine glass on the table and leans forward again with a crease between her perfectly plucked brows. “Then why did you invite me over here, Mr. Huntington? I’m a very busy woman with a company to run, and I don’t have time for games. So if you’ll explain yourself, we can get to the reason of why I’m here in your dining room if it’s not for one of only two reasons I can fathom for receiving such an invitation.”
I stand and push back my chair, then rebutton my jacket. I raise my wine glass in the air. “You’re here to meet my new queen. The woman I’ve signed over all of my shares to, and the new sole head of Blanca Enterprises.”
8
Neve
That’s my cue.
It is with great satisfaction and a rapidly beating heart that I step into the dining room. I can’t help but smirk as my stepmother’s skin pales through her spray tan. She covers her gasp with her hand and slowly stands, unable to truly believe what she’s seeing.
“Neve, you’re alive,” she whispers, then, realizing those words should have a joyous tone to them, she lifts her hands in the air.
“I am,” I reply calmly, folding my hands in front of my elaborate gown.
“You’re alive! It’s a miracle!” Regina shouts. She races toward me, but Chase steps between us, and she collides into the wall of man that belongs to me.
“Not so fast,” Chase grates, stepping toward Regina. She steps back and stumbles, reaching behind her for something to hold onto while only managing to knock over several chairs before finding herself standing on the opposite side of the table from me.
“Why won’t you let me go to her?” She asks, flitting her gaze wildly between myself and Chase.
“Hello, stepmother,” I greet, drawing out the word stepmother to emphasize everything she’s never been to me. “Surprised to see me? You must be, considering you hired someone to kill me. Twice.”
She shakes her head so furiously that I think it’s about to pop off her neck. “No, that’s not— “
Chase grabs his cloak and hood from his chair and wraps it around his shoulders, lifting the hood over his head and eyes. “You want to finish that sentence again?” he asks bitterly.
“It was…you,” she breathes, reaching out a visibly shaky hand to hold onto the chair. “The Hunter.”
She grabs a knife from the table, slicing her palm in the process. Blood drips down her wrist onto her white gown as she raises the little weapon in the air, backing up until she’s flush with the floor to ceiling windows that line the room. “Stay back!” she says.
Ignoring her, I take a step forward instead. She slashes her knife through the air in warning, because she’s nowhere close enough to actually reach me.
“Just tell me this, and then you can go and live whatever miserable life you choose to live. Just one question, and we’re done here,” I tell her.
She stills the blade as blood soaks through her dress, turning the white fabric red. “You’ll…you’ll let me go?” she asks, sounding surprised.
Chase clears his throat behind me, probably because he’s equally surprised. But he left her life in my hands, and it’s my choice if she lives or dies.
“I’m not the villain in this story, and I won’t let you make me one,” I say calmly, adjusting the full skirt of my navy-blue gown. “But I need to know. Why? Was it the money? Because father set aside a generous allowance for you. Or was it because you just hated me and wanted to be rid of me?”
She shakes her head and drops the bloody knife, splashing red all over the white marble floors. She rests her hands on her knees and takes a moment to collect herself before lifting her eyes to mine. “It’s because I’m supposed to be the pretty one. Because I’m supposed to be what others aspire to be. You were an annoyance to me after your father died, but after you started getting older and more beautiful, I couldn’t stand to look at you anymore. I wanted you out of my life and out of this life.” She’s breathing heavily as she waits for my reply. Her face is lined with the bitter hatred she’s had for me all of these years.
“You wanted to kill me because I grew to be what you perceived as prettier than you?” I ask, cocking my head at the woman who is growing uglier and uglier with each word that crosses her lips.
She scoffs. “No, I wanted you dead because others perceived you as prettier than me.”