"You'll break up with me because you're not happy with me. It seemed you only see me as a bother. Samantha and Bianca were placing a bet on us, Hunter. I heard Samantha say that I'm a senseless child who doesn't know how to kiss. She also indicated that you two kissed, and you loved it so much that you didn't want to stop kissing her. Her voice and tone held so much confidence I can't help it, but doubt myself," Hera paused to take a deep breath, and Hunter noticed how her lips quivered, and her eyes shone with unshed tears. 

Hera confessed how much she was afraid of disappointing him and losing him in the process. So she decided to learn it, to perfect it.

"I wanted to make you happy, and I willingly agreed to kiss him, so I can learn how to kiss the way you want it. Nate said he'll teach me how to properly kiss until I become perfect in it," Hera finished. Hiding her face from him, she wiped her tears. Hunter immediately pulled her into his arms. "It's okay, Goddess," he said while she cried into his chest.. "How can you blindly believe what Samantha said? She was lying, Goddess," he said. Hera heard the chiding in his tone and nodded in response. 

"I would've been very pleased to practice it with you if you'd asked me instead of asking him. After all, you wanted to learn it to kiss me," Hunter said, half-joking and half-mad. "How's Nate? I didn't see him anywhere after that," still glued to his chest, Hera asked, words dipped in desperation, and Hunter scowled not impressed at all. 

"If you're worried about me killing him, then rest assured. I didn't touch him after that. If you want to know his whereabouts, you can ask Danny," he said, irked at her concern for Nathan. When Hera pulled away to look at him, pleading him with her eyes, a few more fat tears rolled down her cheeks. A helpless sigh escaped him, and Hunter decided to put her misery to rest. 

"Danny didn't kill him either. He should be fine," he spat out the words. But the tears wetting her soft, chubby cheeks won against his resistance. Wiping them away with his fingers, he smiled at her. "It's okay," he said again and kept repeating it while petting her head in an attempt to comfort her. 

Everything seemed okay after that because he said so. 

Everything felt right when he kissed her. 

With a warm smile playing on her lips, Hera put an end to her memory trip. Coming back to the present, she touched her lips with the tip of her fingers, reminiscing that precious moment. As promised, Hunter practised kissing with her a lot, and she could still feel and remember their every kiss. She'd kept them safe, saving permanently into the memory storage of her brain. 

Sure, they were and still are immature teenagers. But they'd learned their lessons from their mistakes through the years. People didn't know what they put each other through. What all they'd faced and how they came out of it, fighting against all odds. Andrew, Samantha, and others would never understand their relationship. Whether it's a toxic shit or a heavenly bliss, Hera and Hunter knew their hearts wouldn't survive without each other.

Finally, sleep spread its wings, and Hera willingly flew away into the clouds of darkness. 

AT CASTELLANOS MANSION, 

Morning came too early for Johnathan's displeasure. He was dreading it like a plague because he'd a meeting with his brother. Yesterday, after dinner, Alastair said they need to talk, but he was too tired and wanted to sleep. So he asked Johnathan to visit his study tomorrow morning instead. 

Thankfully, the breakfast in the dining hall was less troublesome because Johnathan had no company except his lovely mother along with his wife. It seemed his father had left early to sign an important deal, and Alastair preferred breakfast in bed much to Johnathan's relief. 

His daughter and niece were missing too. "Gisela and Helena are both with Alastair," his mother helpfully supplied. Johnathan gulped his breakfast in a hurry, ignoring his mother's disapproving scowl. He couldn't wait to get over with whatever talk Alastair wanted to have with him. 

Johnathan already had an idea though what would be the context of their so-called talk. 

A while later, the butler came to deliver the message. His Royal Highness Prince Alastair needed him in his study. 

Johnathan reluctantly walked into the wide-opened door. He never felt comfortable stepping foot inside his brother's study because it was full of Alastair's stuff, his personal memories. His trophies, his certificates, his picture, adorning every side of the wall irked Johnathan more. His brother relished photography when he wasn't busy with business, making more money. 

His uneasiness faltered a bit when Johnathan heard a melodious voice, singing an English song. His daughter's vocals sounded heavenly whenever she crooned. Gisela welcomed him with a sweet, enthusiastic giggle and Johnathan took a seat beside her on the cushioned sofa. 

Johnathan's eyes settled on the picture on the wall on their own accord. He couldn't blame himself though it was in direct line of his view anyway. It was one of Alastair's favourite pictures taken by himself. Inside captured was Alexander and Felicity with their little boy. They stood with their backs to the camera, holding each other's hand. 

Ripping his eyes away from the picture, Johnathan asked Gisela in a whisper, "What are you two doing here?" 

"Daddy gave us both permission to skip school today because we wanted to spend time with him and he's skipping his office too," Gisela answered. Surprised at that news, Johnathan eyed his brother. His clean-shaven face appeared more relaxed today. With his wavy curls slicked with sufficient gel, neatly brushed back, clad in a smoothly pressed white silk shirt paired with cream trousers, Alastair looked royally magnificent. 

In contrast to his brother's appearance, Johnathan dressed in full sleeved simple grey T-shirt and blue jeans he looked pretty ordinary. 

Helena's singing kept Alastair smile intact on his face. 

Johnathan's eyes shifted to the guitar in his daughter's hands. It was the best-branded electric guitar in the world. The tones reflected rich and full as she played her fingers along the metal strings. The sound of the melody was honey-sweet, and Johnathan felt his chest puff up with pride.

He never understood why his father always disliked Helena's passion for the guitar, though he appreciated Gisela's musical talents. If playing the piano brings pride to the princess, how would singing or playing the guitar bring disgrace? Why shame Helena for playing the guitar when Gisela got all the praise for her musical talent? 

Always optimistic, Helena gracefully ignored her grandfather's disapproving scowl and snide remarks every time she played her guitar. Johnathan had even brought her a custom made classical guitar.

Meanwhile, Alastair's gaze subconsciously shifted to the pictures on the wall. Johnathan didn't miss how his brother's smile disappeared from his face, and he knew why. 

His eyes followed his brother's gaze and landed on the portrait with a golden frame. Johnathan swallowed his guilt along with his saliva. That portrait was a painted version of the photograph Alastair kept in his office and his bedroom. 

The picture depicted six best friends sharing one of their best moments with each other. 

It was a candid picture showing their genuine emotions. Alastair and his best friends, Alexander, Thomas, Felicity, Mariana and Jessa all laughed heartily while looking at each other. They were rehearsing Julius Caesar for their college drama. Exhausted, they took a small snack break to regain their enthusiasm. 

Eventually, Alastair decided to have some fun and changed the betrayal drama into a romantic comedy, and the messy encounters they invented led into a burst of ridiculous laughter. 

Mariana leaned on Alexander's torso, covering half of his body with hers as they both doubled over with their full-body laughter. One of Thomas' hands suspended in the air as he attempted to throw an empty can of soda at Alastair, a wide toothy grin plastered on his face. 

Felicity's limp body dangling in Alastair's arms pretending dead while Jessa was on the ground, got down on one knee, holding a ring in her hand. In their new version of a romantic comedy act, Alastair had killed his wife Felicity, and Jessa was proposing him over Felicity's dead body. 

Johnathan knew every detail of that photo sequence because he's the one who captured that moment in the camera. 

Gisela applauded and both the brothers jumped out of their stupor. Helena had finished her song and now was grinning wide, expecting praises of course. 

Promising an evening out to his daughter and niece, Alastair asked them to leave them alone with Johnathan for a while, and the moment Johnathan dreaded came. 

"I'm glad you weren't in New York, but why London?" Alastair didn't beat around the bush. His smile disappeared, bringing out the cold, ruthless, calculating businessman in him. Johnathan knew, like always, his brother's men had been monitoring his every move in his absence. 

'If only you knew brother, who I visited in London.' 

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