Page 30 of Hunter

“That is not what I fucking said.”

“I used some artistic license, but that’s basically what you meant.”

“So you want flannel pajamas, a pipe, and your wife barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen,” Connor teases. “Are you not both a bit old for that?”

“We would need to get a move on,” I admit, and they both gape at me. “Yeah, boys, I’m done, hook, line, and sinker. Now, I just have to convince her that I’m good for her.”

“Surely, you have every opportunity. I mean, she’s in your house. That’s closer than you’ve been in decades.” I shake my head, and Harrison narrows his eyes. “What did you fucking do?”

“Threatened to slit her personal trainer’s throat.”

Connor bursts out laughing; he bends forward, hands on his knees. His whole body shakes as he struggles to control himself. Harrison pinches his nose and closes his eyes, the way he does when I tell him something that will cause him more work. There will no doubt be a lawsuit to navigate on his desk soon, and another check to write to ensure my victim keeps his mouth shut.

“What did he do?” Russell shouts; he’s still held fast by Damon, refusing to tap out.What a tool.

“Introduced his wife’s gym buddy to his blade,” Connor shouts back, and now more laughter fills the warehouse.

“And Isabella isn’t too happy,” I mutter.

“I can imagine,” Harrison says, now trying to hide his smile. “You have some making up to do.”

“It’s in process, but I also threatened her with a tracker,” I tell him, and he gives me a quizzical look.

“You have no fucking idea how to treat a woman, Devane,” Connor mutters. “A tracker on your estranged wife? Are you bloody insane?”

“Maybe. Anyway, let’s get these fucking cars loaded on that barge so we can go home.”

“You know, this…” Harrison says, signaling to everything going on around us. “It will be hard to unravel and move past, but it can be done if you want it to be. Between us, we have the ability to leave it all behind and start again.”

He leaves the statement open-ended, not elaborating further on what he said. The truth in his tone, however, can’t be missed. Harrison is thinking about his future, changing who he is for the best possible outcome for his family. It doesn’t surprise me. The orphan boy has everything he could ever want. Why risk a prison term for a few extra million in the bank?

I watch as each car is driven onto the relevant container. The unit is tagged with a number and added to the manifest to be sent to Rodion. Everything he requested has been supplied with this delivery. The captain has been well warned that it must arrive as agreed in Africa. The shipment will then be transferred to a second vessel, which is marked to be carrying coffee and cocoa before heading to Russia. The ship will be stacked with alternating food and car containers, reducing the risk of one of our vehicles being found.

“This better go to plan,” I say to Damon, standing beside me.

“I’ve overseen it all,” he confirms. “Each link of the chain has specific instructions and knows what’s expected. It will go to plan. I’m sending four of our men on the vessel as well.”

“Good. I’m counting on you for this.”

When I return home in the early hours of the morning, once again, I’m met with music and wander off in search of Isabella. This time, however, I find Kasia cleaning the kitchen. She has every cupboard emptied, the array of appliances and implements strewn over the worktops. I watch her climb a small ladder, cloth in hand, and begin to wipe the inside of the highest cupboard. Unable to see, she steps up onto the counter so she is at eye level with the empty space. Her hand moves over every inch of wood slowly.

“You certainly have an attention to detail,” I say, moving into the room. She freezes as soon as I open my mouth, like someone caught doing something they shouldn’t. “Is there a reason you’ve dismantled my kitchen?”

She continues to stare into the cupboard, and I watch as her fine body expands and contracts with each breath. My presence makes her nervous, which is understandable. No doubt she will have heard stories about me and my dangerous ways. Fear keeps people in line, and I like that. Eventually, she returns to ground level and turns to face me, a look of sheer terror plastered on her face.

“Is there a reason you have dismantled my kitchen?” I repeat. Something about the whole situation makes me uneasy. Since Isabella’s arrival, Kasia has easily slotted into my housekeeping staff. I have been highly aware of her ability to be in many places at once and the high praise she receives from others.

“My chores were complete, sir, and I woke early,” she replies. “I was aware a deep clean was on the schedule for next week; it made sense to get started.” Her focus lowers between her feet, so I’m left looking at the top of her head as she submits to authority. Her blonde hair is pulled back in a tight ponytail. Although my staff are respectful, they look me in the eye. Kasia’s gesture is unexpected.

“Very well,” I say, but her explanation is not a comfort.

“Kasia,” Isabella’s voice calls from behind me, the Spanish accent clear. My stomach flips, knowing I need to face her again after our altercation the last time I saw her in the hallway. Each interaction since the night of the police sting has been negative, which is disappointing after enjoying such a wonderful dinner together. The chain of events hasn’t helped my mood.

“In here, Miss. Isabella,” Kasia says. Isabella appears dressed in her workout gear but stops dead when her eyes fall on me. Her joyful expression is immediately gone.

“Hunter,” Isabella addresses me, my name coated in venom.

“Good morning, Bella. If you have a moment…”