Chapter 273: Chapter 275 Unwanted Interruptions
Christina’s POV
"Hudson! What are you doing here?"
I couldn’t decide if I was more shocked or furious at his absolutely terrible timing. The murderous look on Hudson’s face made my stomach drop. Akira stirred restlessly inside me, sensing the tension.
I instinctively stepped back.
"Mr. L-Laurent," Fabrizio stammered, staggering to his feet and extending his hand. Even drunk, he remembered his manners.
Hudson completely ignored him. His icy blue eyes locked onto mine, making the hairs on my neck stand up. "We’re leaving."
"Leaving? Now? I can’t!"
Fabrizio had been seconds away from giving me the name of the person who helped him cook the books. With that information, I could finally close this case and get my five million back. Akira growled in frustration.
"Why didn’t you call me? And how did you even know I was here?" I demanded.
Hudson reached for my wrist, his touch sending unwanted shivers up my arm.
"Don’t!" I yanked my hand away. "I said I’m not leaving."
I glanced nervously toward the restaurant entrance, half expecting Silva to burst through the doors at any moment.
"Is dinner with him really that important?" Hudson’s voice dropped to a dangerous growl. "I need to speak with you. It’s urgent."
"Whatever it is, it can wait. I’m in the middle of something critical." I gritted my teeth, leaned closer and whispered harshly in his ear, "This dinner matters. A lot. I’ll explain later. Right now, you need to go."
He stared at me. "You want me to leave? For him?"
"This isn’t about jealousy, Hudson," I hissed. "Just go, alright?"
I turned back to Fabrizio with an apologetic smile, which quickly faded when I saw him slumped in his chair, chin on his chest, snoring softly.
He was completely passed out.
"Shit." I signaled for the bill and asked the waiter to fetch the restaurant owner, a friend of Fabrizio’s.
When the man arrived, I said, "Could you make sure he gets home safely?"
He glanced between me, Fabrizio and Hudson, gave me a knowing smile, and said, "Of course."
I stormed toward the door. "Fine. Let’s go."
Hudson followed, silent but visibly furious. His anger radiated off him in waves that Akira could taste.
"My car’s over there," he said as we stepped onto the sidewalk.
I ignored him and kept walking, my own anger bubbling up. My blood boiled at tonight’s wasted opportunity. I’d been so damn close.
"Where are you going?" Hudson caught up easily with his long strides. He tried to grab my hand again, but I shook him off.
"Don’t touch me."
I turned the corner and walked straight to a beige utility van parked in front of a closed shop.
Before I could knock, the door swung open. Silva jumped out, scowling.
"I didn’t get the name," I said.
Silva nodded. "I heard everything. Not your fault." He shot a look at Hudson. "This your husband?"
"Yeah." Though after tonight, I wasn’t so sure how happy I was about that bond. "What now?"
Silva glanced back at the van, where computers and surveillance equipment sat unused, two uniformed officers ready to call it a night. "We regroup. I think I know who Fabrizio meant. I’ll investigate further. You should go home."
I unclipped the tiny camera button from my blouse and handed it to him. "Here." I didn’t want anyone listening in on what was coming next.
I headed back to Hudson’s car and climbed into the passenger seat.
I was tempted to flag a taxi instead, but that would only delay the inevitable. I wanted this fight over and done with.
"You were working with the police?" Hudson asked as he slid behind the wheel, his voice dangerously calm.
"Not now," I snapped.
He started the engine with more force than necessary. Neither of us said a word during the drive back to the hotel.
When we reached the suite, he spoke first. "We need to talk."
"I need a shower first."
I’d matched Fabrizio drink for drink and reeked of wine. My head was swimming, but not enough to cloud my judgment. If anything, the alcohol stripped away my usual hesitation. I knew if I didn’t say what needed saying tonight, I’d lose my nerve by morning and, as Ysolde would say, go back to being a coward in love.
"Christina," Hudson called after me, but I was already heading straight into the bathroom. ƒreeωebnovel.ƈom
I turned the shower temperature as high as it would go and let the scorching water pound against my skin. The heat matched my mood perfectly.
"He’s concerned about something," Akira whispered in my mind.
"Well, so am I," I muttered back. "Like how he tracked me down like I’m his property."
I scrubbed until my skin was red and raw, then got dressed and brushed my teeth.
When I came out, Hudson was standing on the balcony, an unlit cigarette between his fingers. I’d never seen him smoke before—another bad sign.
"Let’s talk," I said.
He turned to face me.
In his perfectly tailored dark suit, with that unusually grim expression, he looked like the embodiment of night itself. That dangerous aura had been part of the attraction when we first met. He’d looked lethal, and lethally handsome.
I looked away and sank into a chair, suddenly exhausted.
My temples throbbed, and the alcohol, amplified by the hot shower, was burning through my system fast. Even with my wolf metabolism, I’d overdone it.
"Who was the man in the van?" Hudson demanded.
"Don’t talk to me like I’m one of your pack members you’re ordering around," I snapped. "I get to ask first."
He visibly tried to rein in his temper, but the veins on his clenched hand stood out even in the dim light. Lycaon must be pushing hard against his control.
"Fine. Ask." His voice was tight.
"How did you know I was at that restaurant?"
"I made some calls."
"Too vague. Not good enough."
"I hired someone with certain skills. He tracked your phone."
"You mean a private detective."
"Yes."
"So you hired someone to spy on me," I said, my voice rising with each word. "Without my knowledge or consent."
"Not to spy. You weren’t answering your phone. I had to find you."