Un-Hate Me (Enemies to Lovers Romance) (DOM for Hire Book 3), Hazel Parker [ebook smartphone .TXT] 📗

And on top of that, he still hadn’t signed anything!

My decision to get two embryos made me realize he could come at me and make my life hell too. He could fight for custody, sue for violation of an agreement…

Ugh. I wanted to call Kelly but calling Kelly would just make me avoid the issues at hand. I needed to just be with myself. I needed to accept that yes, I had rushed into things.

I needed to accept that Burke was a good guy.

I needed to accept that my hurry to rush the process had caused a major rift between us.

All I had to do was trust the process, and I hadn’t. What did that say about me? It sure didn’t say anything—

BAM BAM BAM BAM.

Knocks at the door.

Could it be?

I also heard footsteps moving away from the door hurriedly. Maybe Burke was thinking differently of his options. No time to waste.

I hurried to the door, fumbled the lock in my hands, and just barely got it open. There was no one there. I looked to the left, no one. Looked to the right, no one. Had I imagined the damn knock?

No, I realized when I looked down at my feet.

I took the envelope inside, taking extra care to open it very slowly so I didn’t tear anything.

Well, as it turned out, I did not tear anything. And as it turned out, it was not a gift.

It was simply a note:

“Emily, the address for the car. 278 Reddings Street, Bristol, CT. Send a check for $5M to P.O. Box 5555, Hartford, CT. You can also send papers to P.O. Box.”

The note was unsigned. I couldn’t even tell if it came from Burke or a representative of his. But at least he was willing to sign.

At least he was willing to be involved legally, if not personally.

I called my lawyer and had him get everything in order. I felt some measure of relief that everything was set up, legally speaking.

But I sure felt awful that what had seemingly had so much potential for romance and chemistry had merely become a transactional item now.

Chapter 16: Burke

I really hated the idea of giving her a fucking letter.

I wasn’t going to show up and make an emotional pitch on where she could send the car and the money, but still.

I suppose you could say I wanted a second chance at that conversation that had ended so badly just a week or so before. I wanted the chance to process everything, explain what had gone wrong, and provide it to Emily. I just…

Fuck.

Well, this was the bed I had made for myself, and it was time for me to lay on it. If Emily wanted to see me again, she’d leave a note in the car or with the money. It was a huge fucking sign that I barely gave a shit about the car anymore—not to say I didn’t care at all, just that compared to how it had first felt, I felt remarkably empty.

The car would get shipped to the proper address. The check would hit my bank account. I’d briefly smile at the inflated bank account and sit in awe in the driver’s seat of the ride. And then…

Well, what then?

The answer was nothing sustainable. It would feel cool to be in the car. But it wouldn’t last. I wasn’t a big spender, so the money wouldn’t matter; it would just ensure I never went broke.

But anything beyond that? Anything more than that?

The only thing that would make it possible to not feel like shit was to make amends with Emily. And that would entail me not being emotionally unavailable, not writing a fucking letter, and going to meet her in person in Miami.

But before I could let myself wallow in too much pity, I got a message from Scott.

“Snake’s been sighted. East End Cayman Islands. Let’s roll.”

So we’re going back to the place that made Scott retire. Seems appropriate.

I didn’t have time to wallow in my pity. The one thing that could have pulled me from Emily had done so. Time to go to war.

I didn’t bother responding to Scott. He wouldn’t need me to in order to know I was on the way. I gathered my things, headed to the nearest airport, and found a jet waiting for me. I got on the plane without a moment’s hesitation.

And just like last time, the last thing that came to mind was none other than Emily Lorne.

Leave no trail. You did the right thing. She can’t find you in person no matter how hard she tried.

But boy. What I’d give for one more shot.

When I landed in the Cayman Islands, a storm was just rolling in. Clouds overhead were dark, and in the distance, thunder and lightning could be seen. It hadn’t hit where we were yet, but it was only a matter of time.

It seemed almost poetic. It would be a real tempest working to kill Snake. It would have been almost cinematic, except trying to shoot in the fucking rain and not get struck by lightning on an island like this wasn’t just some amusing stunt I’d have to shoot film of. It was a real fucking situation I had to deal with.

Scott and Liam were already waiting for me. They were fully decked out ready to go and kill the motherfucker.

“Gear up in the truck,” Scott said as we walked over to the armored vehicle. “Liam’s got the sunroof. You’ve got the six.”

“Delightful.”

“Don’t complain, you’ll be fully equipped. We’ve got intel on where Snake is, but he probably knows we are coming. So we need to move before he has the chance to escape. Let’s fucking go!”

No pleasantries. No conversation. No catchup.