Chapter 92 - Eric Stone

After Ivy left, Hunter climbed into the driver's seat, shutting the door behind him, his mind thinking of other ways he could get Ivy without making it so obvious.

As he started the engine, his phone buzzed from the cupholder. He picked it up, glancing at the screen, and the smirk vanished, replaced by a deep scowl.

Eric Stone.

His father's name glared back at him, and Hunter felt a familiar wave of irritation rise in his chest. Why was the old nag calling him and what did he want?

He debated ignoring the call, letting it ring until it went to voicemail. But he knew better. Eric Stone wasn't the kind of man to tolerate being ignored, not even by his son.

Grinding his teeth, Hunter swiped to answer. "What do you want?"

"Hunter," Eric's voice came through, cold and authoritative. "I want to see you. Now."

Hunter's grip tightened on the steering wheel. "Why? I'm not good for your sight so why do you want to see me? Shouldn't you be calling Chloe?"

"You would watch your tone, young man! You have no right to be asking me stupid questions," his father snapped, his tone sharp enough to cut. "Just do as I say."

And with that, the line went dead.

Hunter stared at the phone, his jaw clenched so tightly that he was feeling hurt from it.

Of course. No explanation. No reason. Just orders, he thought bitterly, tossing the phone onto the passenger seat.

For a moment, he sat there, gripping the steering wheel and staring at nothing. His father's voice echoed in his mind, dredging up years of resentment.

Eric Stone had always been like this with him—demanding, unyielding, and utterly dismissive of his feelings or opinions. Especially since he remarried.

If it were when his mother was alive, she would've been the one listening to him and calling her husband to order. But his stepmother?

All she ever did was turn his father further away from him so she could have her daughter inherit his mother's restaurant. But that would be over his dead body.

He hissed, running his fingers through his dark hair. What could he possibly want now? Hunter thought, his mind racing.

It wasn't as if they spoke often. Eric only called when he needed something, and it was never good.

He let out a harsh breath and ran a hand through his hair. Fine. Let's see what the old man wants this time.

Without another word, he shifted the car into gear and pulled out of the parking lot.

The drive to his father's estate was one he knew by heart, but it didn't make it any less unpleasant.

As the city lights blurred past him, Hunter's thoughts turned back to Ivy. Her sharp words, her dismissive tone—they replayed in his mind like a broken record.

Too bad he isn't her kind of man.

Her words had stung, though he'd never admit it.

Hunter tightened his grip on the wheel. He hated how easily she got under his skin, how effortlessly she read him. And yet, he couldn't help but admire her for it.

She'll come around eventually, he told himself, forcing a smirk. She always does. Just as she played to his tune in giving him the job, she would play to his tune and end up in his bed before one month is over.

By the time he reached his father's estate, the smirk was long gone from his face.

The sprawling mansion loomed ahead, its cold, imposing facade a perfect reflection of the man who lived inside.

Hunter parked the car and climbed out, his movements tense. As he approached the front door, the familiar feeling of dread settled in his stomach.

The butler opened the door before Hunter could knock, stepping aside silently to let him in.

"Where is he?" Hunter asked, his voice clipped.

"The study, sir," the butler replied, his tone neutral.

Hunter nodded and made his way down the long hallway, his footsteps echoing against the marble floors. When he reached the study, he pushed the door open without knocking.

Eric Stone was seated behind a massive oak desk, his expression as stern and unyielding as ever. He looked up as Hunter entered, his piercing gaze assessing him in silence.

"You called," Hunter said, leaning casually against the doorframe, though his posture was anything but relaxed. "I'm here. What's so urgent?"

Eric didn't answer immediately. Instead, he gestured for Hunter to sit.

"I'd rather stand," Hunter said, crossing his arms over his chest.

Eric raised an eyebrow but didn't press the issue. "I've been hearing things," he said finally, his voice calm but laced with authority. "About your… behavior."

Hunter's jaw tightened. "What kind of things?"

Eric leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. "That you're wasting your time chasing after that woman. Neglecting your responsibilities and making a fool of yourself."

Hunter felt his anger flare, but he forced himself to keep his expression neutral. "I wasn't aware my personal life was any of your concern."

"Everything you do is my concern," Eric said sharply. "You carry the Stone name, and I won't have you tarnishing it with your reckless antics. I gave you a task, all I need you to do is focus on it and stop pursuing that woman. Besides, you know you have a fiancée. Stop messing around, Hunter."

Hunter clenched his fists at his sides, the familiar sting of his father's words hitting harder than he cared to admit.

"If you think I'm going to live my life according to your rules, you're mistaken. I'm only doing this because of my mother's restaurant otherwise, I would never have agreed to this! And having a fiancée doesn't mean I can't talk to a woman....."

"You're my son. You'll do as I say. Stop messing around with her and focus on the task!" Eric growled, cutting him off.

Hunter pushed off the doorframe, stepping closer to the desk. "I'm not a puppet, Eric. And I'm done letting you pull the strings. I'll do what you asked but don't ask me to stop talking to whoever!"

The tension in the room was palpable, the air heavy with unspoken resentment.

Eric's expression darkened, but before he could respond, Hunter turned on his heel and walked out, his footsteps echoing in the silence.

As he stepped back into his car, Hunter let out a shaky breath. His hands trembled as he gripped the steering wheel, the weight of his father's expectations pressing down on him like a suffocating blanket.

I'm done being controlled, he thought, his jaw set. And I'm done playing by his rules.

For the first time in a long time, Hunter felt a spark of determination. He wasn't going to let Eric Stone dictate his life anymore. No matter what it took.

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