Page 106 of Hunter

Sophia’s voice cuts through the tension. “Maxim.”

But I’m not hearing it. My focus is on Jennifer, on her lies and manipulations.

“It’s okay, Sophia,” Jennifer says softly, her gaze flickering to my gun then back to me. “He has the right to be upset. I haven’t made it easy on him.”

“That’s an understatement,” I murmur, barely keeping my voice under control.

Jennifer nods, a tear slipping down her cheek as she continues, her voice breaking. “I had the idea to burn down your warehouse. Everything was planned out in my head; all I had to do was tell them, and they’d give me everything I needed to make it happen.” She swallows hard, wiping her eyes quickly. “But then…then I found a letter Dad left for me.” Her voice falters as she looks up, as if the weight of the moment is crushing her.

“Wait, I asked Mom if Dad had written you a letter, and she told me no,” Sophia asks, her tone laced with curiosity.

“I’m not sure why she said that.” Her response is careful, but there’s a flicker in her eyes—a fleeting, guarded look that tells me she knows more than she’s letting on. She’s hiding something. But why? What could possibly make their mom lie about something like that? What necessity would there be?

Sophia doesn’t respond immediately, her brows furrowing as she processes my words. I can see the confusion and curiositybrewing in her expression, mirroring my own. Her silence speaks louder than anything she could say. It’s as if we’re both standing on the edge of a puzzle, staring at pieces that don’t quite fit together.

“Finding that letter,” Jennifer continues, “forced me to see what I was doing was a mistake. But it was too late. The damage had already been done. All I could do was stop myself from causing more harm.” Her eyes drop to the floor. “Unfortunately, they had already gotten what they wanted—inside your organization. They used Danny to keep an eye on me, to keep me in line. I thought he wanted to rekindle our relationship, but in reality, he was working for the syndicate the whole time. He told them about my plan to burn down the warehouse. The only person who could have known about it was him. I’m not sure how he figured it out, but he did.”

She pauses, taking a shaky breath before continuing. “After your warehouse burned down, I had my suspicions. I started becoming more guarded, playing my cards right, because I had a gut feeling he was crossing me. Then, the day we had brunch and Maxim crashed it, I let it slip to Danny like an idiot that you two were dating. It was my fault the syndicate found your weakness. When I found out Sophia was kidnapped, I decided to follow Danny and listen to his phone calls. What I overheard from his conversations was that the syndicate wanted to take Luca and you down. They kidnapped Sophia to send you both on a wild goose chase. They wanted Marcos and Donny out of the picture, so they used them as pawns. They wanted you to believe Marcos was responsible for everything.” She looks at me, her eyes filled with regret. “I don’t know what they accomplished other than getting the Antonellis out of the picture, and I’m assuming they wanted you distracted to get control of your businesses, but that’s just speculation on my part.”

The words hang in the air, and I feel a wave of nausea creep up my throat. My hands tighten on the arms of the chair again, but this time, it’s not out of rage—it’s the sick feeling of helplessness, of knowing the truth but not knowing how to fix any of it.

“I can’t take back what I did,” Jennifer whispers, her voice barely audible. “But I’m trying to fix what I can fix. That’s why I lured you here today. I can’t escape them without complications. The syndicate… They’ve had eyes on me this whole time, and I’m afraid they will harm my kids if they find out I’m here. But I had to risk it. This was the only way I could talk to you both. Anyone watching me will see it as you capturing me. I’m sorry for the horrible things I said to you both. I needed to put on a show in case they were listening.”

Sophia’s voice breaks the silence. “Who’s taking care of the kids now?”

Jennifer freezes. Her eyes widen for a second, and she blinks rapidly, like the question caught her off guard. She’s most definitely hiding something.

“Are they alright?” Sophia presses, concern flooding her voice as she watches Jennifer carefully.

For a long moment, Jennifer doesn’t respond. It’s like she’s trapped in her own thoughts somewhere far away. And that hesitation? It’s enough to make my stomach turn.

“They’re safe,” she finally says, shaking her head and snapping out of whatever the hell was keeping her frozen. Her eyes dart back to Sophia, but there’s something about her expression that doesn’t sit right.

Sophia’s brow furrows. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Jennifer answers quickly—too quickly. She reaches into her pocket, and my hand instinctively moves to my gun, ready for whatever the hell she’s about to pull out.

“I don’t have a gun, Maxim. Relax,” Jennifer says in a calm, almost soothing, voice as she hands me what looks like two folded, open envelopes.

My heart skips a beat as I eye the envelopes suspiciously, but I keep my cool.

“What is this?” I ask, trying to keep my tone even.

Jennifer looks at Sophia before answering, “It’s a letter for you from Dad.”

“Dad left Maxim two letters?” Sophia asks.

“No, just one. After dad died, I helped Mom go through his things. She said she was never going to send that letter. I removed it from the envelope and put the envelope where she told me to put it.”

The room goes quiet as I take the envelopes from her, my fingers trembling slightly. I never knew her father wrote me a letter. The thought of it rattles me more than I care to admit.

Sophia glances at me, her voice soft. “Read it out loud, please.”

I nod, taking a deep breath as I begin to unfold the letter. My heart races faster, knowing that whatever is inside could change everything. The weight of the letter feels like a thousand pounds pressing down on my chest. I can barely breathe as I read the words. Each sentence hits like a punch to the gut, and I have to force myself to keep reading.

FORTY-THREE

LETTER FOR MAXIM

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