Page 77 of Hunter

“You don’t forgive me?” His voice cracks, his pain so raw, it makes my chest tighten. I can’t look away, even though every part of me wants to break. I made this decision. I can’t back down.

“No. Not until you prove to me you can keep your promises. That you can really change. I need to see it.”

His eyes close for a moment, and when he speaks again, his voice is thick with emotion. “You don’t trust me?”

I straighten my shoulders, trying to hold my ground. “Can you blame me?”

He shakes his head, his face twisted in regret. “No. No, I can’t.” A long exhale leaves him, the pain of it like a physical blow. “As much as it fucking sucks, I respect your decision. If the only way to earn your forgiveness is to prove myself, then that’s what I’ll do.”

I feel a weight lift from my chest, but it’s a bittersweet relief. I thought this would be harder—thought he would fight me. But he doesn’t. And that makes everything feel… complicated. He’s willing to fight for me, for us. And I have to believe he’s capable of change.

He reaches out, his voice softening. “Shall we start with the letters?”

“That sounds like a good start,” I whisper, the words barely escaping my lips. But inside, I know this is just the beginning. He has a long road ahead, and so do I. We both do. But maybe—just maybe—we can walk it together.

THIRTY

MAXIM

“Son of a bitch,” Luca exclaims, his voice loud enough to make Sophia jerk upright, eyes wide, her breath coming in short, panicked bursts. I can see her chest rising and falling too quickly, like she has just been yanked from a nightmare she didn’t want to wake up from. She had fallen asleep in the chair over forty minutes ago, but I couldn’t bring myself to wake her. We’ve been at this for over six hours now, pouring over these damn letters. When we left her mother’s house, it was already 5:30 PM. We put a few boxes in her car, ones she planned to go through later, and headed back to her place, where Luca and Andrei were already waiting. It hasn’t stopped since then. Andrei left a couple of hours ago, and now it’s just the three of us—well, more like Sophia and Luca keeping the grind alive. Me? I’ve been in this so long, I could recite the damn emails and letters from memory.

“What happened?” she asks, voice high with a mixture of panic and confusion, her gaze darting between me and Luca.

“Nothing. Everything’s fine. Luca just got a little too excited.” I shoot him a glare, trying to calm her down, rubbing her back in slow, soothing circles. He shrugs, mouthing a quiet sorry.

“What did you find?” Sophia asks, her voice shaking as she slowly starts to catch her breath.

Luca sets the laptop down on the coffee table with an almost theatrical flourish. “These emails weren’t sent by Andrei.”

I scoff, rolling my eyes. “You seriously made all that noise for something we already knew?”

He narrows his eyes at me, sighing like I’m the one wasting his time. “You’re going to tell me you don’t have a single doubt in your mind? Not even the smallest part of you questioning your brother’s involvement in this?”

The question hits me harder than I care to admit. The truth? There is a part of me—a very small, hidden part—struggling with it. Doubt’s a bitch, and it lingers even when you try to shove it down.

Luca keeps talking, ignoring my silence. “At first, I thought I could find inconsistencies between Andrei’s messages and the emails, but I couldn’t. Whoever sent these knows him inside and out. They’ve mimicked his style too perfectly.”

I lean forward in my chair, a tightness in my chest I can’t shake. Could this finally be the breakthrough we’ve been waiting for?

“That should be easy, right?” Sophia says, her voice calmer now but with a sharp edge I know all too well. “From my experience with Mr. Forthcoming over there”—she points at me with a half-smile—“you don’t let just anyone in.”

“She has a point,” Luca says casually, staring me down, a quiet judgment written in his eyes.

“Oh please, like you’re any different.” I scoff, rolling my eyes, annoyed at the jab. But it’s true. We’re both a mess of secrets, just different kinds.

Luca clicks his tongue three times, an exaggerated sound that does nothing to calm me. “On the contrary, Maxim, mypages have—” he starts, but I cut him off, unwilling to listen to whatever nonsense he’s about to spew.

“Is that all you figured out, or is there more? Because if this is it, we’re just wasting time.” I don’t care for the drama. Not now. Not when we’re so close to answers.

Luca disregards my irritation, diving right back in. “Once I realized the email patterns were consistent, I started writing down the dates and times each one was sent. Two dates stood out—July 3rd and July 8th.”

My stomach twists at the mention of those dates. July 3rd, the day she was taken. July 8th, the day we found her. It’s a constant reminder of the nightmare I lived through.

“I managed to prove Andrei’s innocence with the email sent on July 8th.” My gut sinks even further. The relief I should feel is clouded by the memory of what I did that night. I don’t regret it—not one bit—but I’m terrified of Sophia hearing about it. The truth is, there’s a difference between suspecting the worst and knowing just how far I’ve gone. What if she looks at me differently? What if she can’t stomach what I’ve done?

“How did you prove that?” Sophia asks, her voice shaky but desperate for answers. She’s getting too close to the edge of this, and I don’t know if I can hold myself together much longer.

You promised her full transparency, Maxim.

---