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“My type?”
“Suave, dishonest predators who only care about their narcissistic selves.”
“I don’t deny the characteristics. In fact, I take pride in them since they’ll allow me to identify similar monsters and protect your daughter from their claws. I’m open to earning your trust in any way you deem necessary as long as it doesn’t include breaking up with Mia. Nikolai and his edgy cousin Killian tried, but I assure you they didn’t and won’t succeed. I promise I’m not a threat. At least, not to Mia and the people she loves.”
“Your promise holds little to no importance for me.”
“How about information, then?”
I narrow my eyes. “What type of information?”
“Further details about what happened to Mia eleven years ago.”
I straighten and grow taller in my chair. “How the bloody hell do you know about that?”
“Mia told me herself because, as I mentioned earlier and you refused to believe, I do happen to be a doting boyfriend and worked hard to earn her trust. Which included suppressing my own nature, but I’m sure you’re not interested in those details.”
“What the fuck do you know about what happened?”
“Enough to formulate a dangerous theory.”
One moment I’m sitting there, the next, I grab him by the collar of his shirt and lift him up. “What the fuck do you know?”
“Whoa. Here I was complimenting your coolheadedness compared to Nikolai, but the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Am I right?”
“I know a hundred and one ways to kill people, so unless you’re ready to experience the most brutal one, I suggest you talk.”
He grabs onto my arm, but he doesn’t push me away. “I will if we have mutual trust. I must say, your reaction doesn’t encourage any future collaborations.”
The sound of Maya’s talking reaches me and I release the little fucker. He falls against the sofa and readjusts his collar as if nothing happened.
By the time my wife and the girls join us, I’m already in my seat and thinking of a thousand ways to kill the bastard in his sleep. Forget about the construction site; that’s too mild for him.
But first, I need to figure out what exactly he knows and why the hell Mia trusts the sleazy fucker enough to tell him about that part of her past.
“What were you guys talking about?” Rai asks while placing the tray of tea and biscuits in front of him.
“Mr. Hunter was just telling me you make great tea and I must admit, I’m curious to find out.”
I narrow my eyes on him, but he continues to smile at my wife, who tells him that’s a major exaggeration on my part.
We sit down for tea again, but despite my deep-rooted Britishness, that’s not my focus at all. I keep watching for telltales to expose the twat and reveal his true face.
That mission proves to be increasingly hard when he keeps saying all the right words and gives Rai the perfect answers to all her questions.
He’s as skilled at lying as trained spies, but then again, maybe he isn’t, in fact, lying but rather good at mixing the truth with the right words, depending on the audience.
But what actually takes me aback is Mia’s talkativeness. She signs a lot and tells the epic story of the survivors Claudia, Stephan, and Emilia, the flowers who are living their best lives due to her and Landon’s care.
“Wait.” She turns to him. “Who’s taking care of them if you and I are here?”
“I gave Bran the keys and specifically told him that I might revoke brotherly rights if something happens to your precious flowers.”
She hits his shoulder. “You’re so mean to him. You better appreciate him more.”
“Yes, Mom.” He salutes.
Mia tries and fails miserably in hiding her smile.
