Page 38 of Hunt

Tears of gratitude sting my eyes. "Thank you. I...I don't know what I'd do without you."

“Just don’t disappear on me again, Bella. I’m serious. I thought you were dead.”

“I know, and I’m so sorry. Please be careful," I whisper, my heart clenching painfully. "These people...they're the worst kind of monsters."

"I can handle monsters. But how do I get ahold of you again?” she asks.

“I’ll text you one of the guy’s numbers. You can reach me through them. I’m throwing this phone away as soon as we hang up. I can’t take a chance.”

“You got it. I’ll handle Rosa. You get out of that auction, Bella.”

“Working on it.”

“Good. I’ll call you when I have info.”

“Thanks girl. Thank you so fucking much.”

The next day,the Hamptons transform into a hub of activity as packs of alphas descend upon the lavish estates dotting the seaside landscape. Sleek black cars with tinted windows glide through the winding roads, carrying the wealthiest and most influential members of our twisted society. The air crackles with a sinister undercurrent, the scent of power and depravity mingling with the salty ocean breeze.

I stand before the full-length mirror in my opulent bedroom, staring at my reflection with a mixture of disgust and defiance. My fathers have chosen my attire for the evening's festivities—a figure-hugging gown of shimmering ivory silk that clings to my curves like a second skin, but luckily for me, the neckline reaches my throat, and my hair covers the bite marks you my alphas left on my skin. The marks are barely visible, but any alpha would notice.

A bottle of perfume was left on my vanity table last night while I was out. There was a note inside the cap. It was from Silas. The perfume is expensive, and made of a potent substance that mimics the pheromones of an omega. I have no idea how thefuck he got ahold of this, but I’m grateful. One whiff of my actual scent, and my fathers and every alpha near me will recognize that I’m scent matched with the Carbones. I’m lucky they haven’t been close enough already.

As I descend the grand staircase, the murmur of voices grows louder, the clinking of champagne flutes and the low rumble of alpha growls filling the air. The ballroom is a sea of black tuxedos and glittering gowns, the crème de la crème of the alpha elite gathered to stake their claim on the most coveted omegas.

I feel their hungry gazes on me, their nostrils flaring as they catch my scent. Some leer openly, undressing me with their eyes, while others whisper behind their hands, no doubt already calculating my worth. It sickens me to the core, but I force a smile, remembering the role I must play.

My fathers lead me through the throng, their vice-like grips on my arms a constant reminder of my captivity. They introduce me to alpha after alpha, each more vile than the last.

The auction is in twelve hours, so we’ll need to leave for the city well before then. Dread coils like a snake in my gut.

As the sun begins its descent, casting a golden glow over the opulent estates, the cocktail parties commence in earnest. The sprawling gardens and terraces are transformed into a playground for the elite, with twinkling fairy lights and the gentle strains of live music setting the mood. Waiters in crisp white uniforms weave through the crowd, offering trays laden with exotic hors d'oeuvres and sparkling flutes of champagne.

I am led from one group of alphas to another, my fathers presenting me like a prized possession. The older alphas, their faces weathered by time and the weight of their power, appraise me with calculating eyes. They whisper amongst themselves, no doubt discussing my lineage and the potential benefits of aligning their packs with the De Luca empire.

Their sons and nephews, young alphas in their prime, circle me like wolves, their gazes hungry and filled with barely restrained desire. They lean in close, inhaling deeply as if trying to catch a hint of my true scent beneath the perfume. I feel their hot breath on my skin, their fingers brushing against me as they reach for a cake or a glass of champagne. It takes every ounce of my self-control not to flinch away in revulsion.

As the evening wears on, the atmosphere grows more charged, the air heavy with the heady mix of pheromones and power. The laughter becomes more raucous, the conversations more intimate.

Just as I begin to feel suffocated by the oppressive attention, a hush falls over the gathered alphas. Heads turn towards the entrance, and I follow their gazes, my heart leaping into my throat as I see them.

The Carbone alphas stride into the garden, with Sam right next to them, their presence commanding and electrifying. Dante leads the way, his tall, muscular frame clad in a perfectly tailored black suit. His dark hair is slicked back, accentuating his chiseled features and the intensity of his piercing eyes. Silas, Sam and Hector flank him, their own suits impeccably cut to showcase their powerful physiques.

The air seems to crackle with tension as the other alphas take in the sight of the notorious Carbones. Whispers ripple through the crowd, tales of their ruthless reputation and the brutal efficiency with which they operate. Even the most arrogant of the young alphas seem to shrink back, their bravado faltering in the face of the Carbones' undeniable presence.

My fathers stiffen beside me, their grips on my arms tightening almost painfully. I can sense their unease, the way their eyes dart nervously between the brothers and the other guests. They know the power the Carbones wield, the danger they represent.

As if drawn by an invisible force, Dante's gaze locks with mine across the crowded terrace. For a moment, the world falls away, and it's just the two of us, our eyes conveying a thousand unspoken words. I see the barely restrained fury in his gaze, the protective instinct that burns like an inferno within him. In that moment, I know with absolute certainty that he and his brothers will stop at nothing to keep me safe, to tear apart anyone who dares to lay a hand on me.

The spell is broken as Dante tears his gaze away, his attention shifting to my fathers. He approaches them with a predatory grace, Silas and Hector flanking him like lethal shadows. The other alphas part like the Red Sea, their survival instincts screaming at them to give the Carbones a wide berth.

As the evening progresses, I can feel the Carbone alphas' gazes burning into me, their eyes never straying far from my form. Even as they engage in tense conversations with the other alpha elite, their attention remains fixed on me, a silent promise of protection and possession.

I move through the crowd, my fathers parading me like a prized trophy, introducing me to one leering alpha after another. Each time a male leans in too close, his breath hot against my skin and his fingers grazing my arm, I see the Carbones stiffen, their jaws clenching and their eyes flashing with barely restrained rage.

Dante's gaze is particularly intense, his dark eyes smoldering with a fierce protectiveness that sends shivers down my spine. When a young alpha, emboldened by too much champagne, dares to place his hand on the small of my back, Dante's growl rumbles through the air, low and menacing. The offending alpha quickly withdraws his hand, his face paling as he realizes the grave mistake he's made.

Silas and Hector are no less vigilant, their towering forms positioned strategically around the garden, always withinstriking distance. They exude an aura of quiet menace, their very presence a warning to any who might overstep their bounds. Sam stays close to me, never letting me out of his sight.

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