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Power corrupted, and Hunter was now the head of his family. The power he now had must have changed him into someone I didn’t recognize, despite how much he looked like his old self, the young man I’d known five years ago, before all this happened.
We entered the quiet, dim apartment and I waited while James turned on some lights.
"Isn't Hunter—er, Mr. Saint here?" I asked.
"No," James said. "He asked me to bring you here and to tell you he'd be by later. He's caught up with some business associate and won’t be back for a while. You're supposed to make yourself at hom
e. There's food in the fridge and a big soaker tub in the master bathroom."
"Thanks," I said and stood in the entryway, a bit overwhelmed by the opulence of the place. It was gilded and appointed with the best materials—marble, dark wood, what looked like gold inlay in the furniture. Mirrors and crystal chandelier in the entry. Ceiling-to-floor windows overlooking the waterfront.
It was breathtaking.
James led me through the apartment, pointing out the living room, dining room, and then the professional kitchen with everything a chef could want. Down a narrow hall was a huge master bedroom with a massive four-poster king-sized bed, and an equally impressive master suite.
"This is your room," James said and opened the door to a smaller bedroom with another four-poster bed. "You can use this bathroom if you want." He pointed to a full bathroom across the hall.
"Thank you," I said, and stood there wondering what to do next.
"I'll be going now," James said. "I'm still on duty tomorrow morning so I'll take you to Harvard for your early class."
"Okay," I said, my cheeks hot, wondering whether James knew why I was staying the night. "Am I supposed to tip you?" I asked, my cheeks red.
"No, no," he said and laughed softly. "I'm very well-paid, and on staff. But thanks for the sentiment."
"Sorry, I didn’t know…"
He shook his head. "No worries."
I walked James to the door. He turned to me before he left. "Mr. Saint doesn't usually allow guests to stay overnight. You must be special."
"We're old friends. I've known him pretty much all my life."
He nodded. "I figured as much." He smiled briefly and left me in the huge penthouse apartment.
Then I was alone, waiting for Hunter to come and do whatever it was he planned to do with me.
Pound my flesh. Get his pound of flesh. Was I really going to go through with this?
I'd never pimped myself out before, and doing so left this hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach. If we fucked, I knew it would be cheap and it would be empty. Sure, I had a low level of arousal at the prospect of being with Hunter despite everything, but part of me hated myself for it and another part hated Hunter for being willing to use me like that.
Why would he even want to? He could have sex with any number of pretty young things. He was rich, gorgeous, and powerful in the city. He'd have his pick.
Why bother with someone who you hated?
Was a hate fuck as good as he suggested?
I didn’t hate him. In fact, I liked him too much. Even after these past five years, I still wanted him. Even though he had become some tough guy. I tried to tell myself that loyalty to his father had made him do the one thing he never wanted to do. I'd always thought he was noble, but the fact that he would take advantage of my misfortune for something as base as sex made me question that.
I remembered what my mother had told me soon after Hunter returned to Boston after Sean's death.
"Spencer says Hunter's just as bad as everyone else in his family. He's already in the pocket of the Romanov family. Not even six months after he took over and he's as corrupt as the others."
"I can't believe it," I said, my heart squeezing at the thought that Hunter had become one of the bad guys.
"You have to believe it, Celia," my mother said, her eyes heavy from her medication. "Spencer says it's in his genes."
"That's bullshit," I said, furious that Spencer was talking Hunter down—even now. "It was also in his genes to go to Harvard to do an MBA and graduate at the top of his class. It was in his genes to become a Marine officer and do two tours of duty in war zones. It's not in your genes to be a criminal. It's circumstances."
