Page 102 of Hunter

Maxim doesn’t flinch, but the air around him changes, his stillness more threatening than any outburst could be.

“They don’t want the business to go legit, Maxim,” Jenny continues, her tone growing sharper. “They want to stay underground, in the dark, where the real money is. And that’s where you’ve failed them.”

She leans forward again, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “You’re trying to turn the Bratva into something it was never meant to be. But me? I understand what they want. What they need. And I’ve already given it to them.”

FORTY-ONE

SOPHIA

Maxim’s breathing quickens, just slightly—but I notice. Jenny doesn’t seem to realize how deeply her words are cutting him, but I know him too well. He’s close to snapping.

“Let’s go back to the beginning, Jenny,” I interject, shifting her focus to me. “How did you find out Isaak is your real father?”

Jenny’s head tilts, a cruel smirk tugging at her lips before she answers. “I followed Mom here, to this very place.” She gestures broadly to the room, her voice calm, almost reflective.

My stomach twists as dread floods my veins. I already know where this is going.

“I started noticing Mom would leave the house at the same time, on the same day, every week. It made me curious, so while Dad and you were watching a movie, I followed her.”

My breath catches in my throat.

“Never in my wildest dreams did I think I’d see what I saw that day. Mom walking hand in hand into a sleazy hotel with a strange man.” Her voice wavers slightly, but she continues. “I debated what to do for a long time. I thought maybe it was just a lapse in judgment. A one-time mistake. So I waited and followed her again the next week. And the next.”

She stops, her eyes distant and glossy. “It wasn’t a mistake. Same time. Same man. Every week.”

Tears burn my eyes as my heart shatters. Until now, I clung to the hope Jenny was lying, that her claims about Mom and Dad weren’t true. But seeing her broken expression, the pain bleeding through her words—I know.

Mom cheated on Dad.

Jenny laughs bitterly, snapping me back to the moment. “That night, I waited for her to come home and confronted her. She admitted everything. Told me she’d been having an affair with that man for years.” Her voice cracks, and she shakes her head, as if trying to dispel the memory. “I was so angry. So lost. I felt betrayed. I told her I’d tell Dad if she didn’t stop. She swore she would, but I knew better. The way she looked at him…”

Her voice trails off, and I stay silent. There’s so much I want to ask—what age she found out, what else Mom said—but I don’t dare interrupt. If I do, she might stop talking.

“For months, I couldn’t shake the idea that Dad wasn’t my real father,” she finally continues. “It ate at me. So I did what I had to do. I ordered a paternity test.” Her gaze sharpens, locking onto me. “I stole samples of his DNA and mine, sent them to a lab, and waited. It took weeks to get the results and even longer for me to find the courage to open them.”

Her dry chuckle sends chills down my spine. “When I finally read the results and saw the words ‘no match’, it just…confirmed what I already knew deep down. I wasn’t his daughter. And suddenly, so many things made sense. The way he treated me—cold, distant, like I wasn’t even there. He knew I wasn’t his.”

Jenny gets up and starts pacing, energy rolling off her in waves. “For years—years—before I found out, I hated you for being his favorite, for getting all his attention while I got nothing. But after I learned the truth, I hated you even more.”

She stops abruptly, closing the distance between us in a few quick steps. Her hands clamp down on the arms of my chair, her face inches from mine.

“You hated me for something I had no control over?” I scoff, meeting her glare head-on. “You made my fucking life miserable because Mom cheated on Dad?”

“You’ll never understand,” she spits. “You’ve never been alone. You’ve never felt empty.”

“That’s bullshit!” I yell, the words exploding out of me. “That’s fucking bullshit! You act like Dad was around all the time, showering me with attention. He wasn’t, Jenny. He was barely there! Maybe one day a week, for a few hours, if that. He was always working.”

Her lips part, but I don’t let her interrupt.

“You know who was always there? Mom. And you. Together. You two were inseparable. Always going on lunch dates and shopping trips, always leaving me out. You both treated me like garbage, always mocking me for being too fat, not skinny enough to be like you.”

My voice cracks, but I push through the lump in my throat. “I’m sorry Dad wasn’t there for you. Maybe he saw how horribly you and Mom treated me and decided I deserved at least one person in my corner.”

Thinking about what she said, a bitter realization crashes over me. Maybe Mom was always backing Jenny up because she felt guilty. It doesn’t excuse her actions, but it explains why she made my life a living hell. She must have seen how much Jenny hated me and used me as a scapegoat to ease her own guilt.

Jenny snorts, snapping me back to the moment. “Stop being so dramatic, Sophia. You make it sound like your childhood was unbearable. We weren’t that bad. Mom only treated you that way when I was around to help with her guilt. I’m sure behind my back, she coddled you.”

I scoff, disbelief rising in my chest. “You really are delusional if you think Mom coddled me.” I shake my head. “Her head was so far up your ass, she didn’t have time for a single real conversation with me. The most I ever got was a list of chores. That was it. I used to joke I was the Cuban Cinderella.” I let out a bitter laugh. “But you wouldn’t know, would you?”

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