“Here comes my lucky charm,” he declared with a broad smile.
Isabelle was not present, as Hunter was clever enough not to bring his mistress directly to the dinner table, but I could still feel her shadow hanging over us like perfume trapped in an unventilated room. My father sat at the head of the polished table, remaining perfectly polite and entirely unreadable. Nadia sat directly beside him, placing a slim navy folder flat on the tablecloth near her plate. Hunter noticed the folder immediately, though he attempted to act completely indifferent.
“Do we really have legal oversight present at a celebration dinner?” he asked with a forced laugh. “Philip, you are making me a little nervous here.”
“A sum like ten million dollars should make any responsible businessman extra careful,” my father replied smoothly, lifting his water glass.
“You are absolutely right,” Hunter laughed a bit too loudly for the small space. “Being careful is smart, and total transparency is vital. That is precisely why this partnership means the world to me, because we are family.”
The word family echoed across the table and died without a single response.
For the first twenty minutes of the meal, Hunter put on a brilliant performance as he talked about market expansion, regional strategy, executive hiring, and timing. He spoke with the bright confidence that had once made me feel genuinely proud to stand by his side. I watched his hands as he gestured in the air, remembering how those same hands had buttoned my favorite dresses, held mine during hospital visits, and lifted champagne glasses to toast our shared future. Now, those hands moved purely like mechanical tools designed to get what he wanted.
