Page 2 of Hunt

I run my fingers through my hair, tugging on the dyed blue streaks in frustration as I lean against the rough brick wall. Mama has always been stubborn, but maybe she's taking it too far. I can sense that something is wrong, and yet she refuses to tell me what it is. There must be a reason why she randomly called me out of the blue. She never does anything without a purpose. Deep down, I know that she's in some kind of trouble.

I turn around again, scanning the dark parking lot, but still I see nothing. It feels foolish to be so paranoid, especially given the fact that I haven’t heard or seen anything to give me the idea that Alessio might have caught on to my location. When we left three months ago, the guys made sure there was no trace or trail. Silas has connections I never ask about, and somehow we made it to Canada before anyone could come looking.

I quickly retreat three steps in the direction of the staircase when I feel a vibration in the palm of my hand. My entire body tenses up, and I tightly grip the small device with my trembling fingers. Part of me wants to throw the phone away and escape, but I can't afford to do that when Mama's well-being is at stake. This phone is my only connection to her right now.

Reluctantly, I answer the phone. Silence greets me, but the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. There are no soft sounds, no breathing or clicking. Just dead silence.

“Who’s there?” I ask in a rush, only to be greeted with more quiet. “I’m hanging up now,” I mutter, hands still shaking.

“Tsk tsk, is that any way to address your alpha?”

I feel weightless and heavy at the same time. I can’t breathe, and I don’t know if I should. He could be anywhere. He could be watching me. If he found this number, his resources are probably more advanced than I’d given him credit for.

“Belladonna?’” he chuckles, his low timbre rolling through me, sending shards of ice through my heart.

That voice is deceptive. It’s the sound of the man who’d tuck me into bed at night and kiss me on the forehead, only to turn around and order his men to beat me the next day for training. It’s the voice of a man who kills for sport and money. A man who forced me to kill for him. The voice of a man who sold my sister like one would sell property, in exchange for a new business deal.

“I’m here, Alessio,” I whisper, sounding like the little girl I always feel like in his presence.

Even now, thousands of miles from my childhood home, I can feel his aura looming over me—crushing my body and my spirit under his blood-soaked fist.

“Ah, there she is.” His accent is thick tonight, strained with the rage I know is lurking inside of him.

But yelling isn’t Alessio De Luca’s style. He’s maintained a calm and collected sort of fury over the years. It’s something many mob men have honed carefully, because often times, it’s more effective than yelling or screaming.

I’ve personally been on the receiving end of that silence. I’ve watched him slice a person’s throat with utter indifference while still managing to discuss business with the person next to him. Never once have I seen even a spark of something human in there.

“How did you find me?” I clip.

My hands are shaking as I roam my eyes over the barren parking lot. I hear nothing but the howling of wind.

Alessio chuckles darkly. “If you think I haven’t known exactly where you were since the day you and those traitors left, then you’re a fool, Belladonna. You’ve had your fun, but now it is time for you to come home to your pack.”

Fear strikes me clean though my chest. “I—” I struggle to breathe a word, but my throat closes up as bile churns in my stomach.

“Here’s what you’ll do. Listen closely because I will not repeat myself.” His tone leaves no room for argument. I couldn’t even if I tried. “Beneath the staircase you’re standing in front of is a small pouch.”

I turn and duck, narrowing my eyes though the shadows of the building that blocks out the moonlight. Sure enough, there it is. A small black bag sits at the base of the stairs.

“Inside you will find a phone. Turn it on, but do not look inside. I will know if you do. You will take it and place it in your bedroom, and then you will gather the few items that mean anything to you. You will get in your car and drive to the address I am sending you right now.” My phone beeps with a text. “Be there in under thirty minutes, Belladonna, or you will not like what happens next.”

I blink vacantly, letting his words sink in. Overcome with dread, I manage to stifle the tears building in my eyes and ask, “Why are you doing this? What have you done?”

He laughs again. His laugh is gruff and evil—oozing like tar through the phone and into my ear. I bite the inside of my cheek until blood fills my mouth.

“You and your mama have turned your backs on this pack, my darling.” He sighs heavily. “It’s a shame. You had so much potential inside of you, but you chose to throw it all away for a few traitorous alphas who fuck you well for the first time.The Carbone pack and ours had plans to join forces, but now, I cannot trust their new alphas.”

“That's not—” I try to defend myself, but he just cuts me off.

“I do not care for excuses. You know this already. If you ignore my instructions, your mama will pay for it personally. I do not wish to lay a hand on my own wife, but I’ll not excuse this insolence any longer. You forget who I am and what I am capable of.”

“How long?” I ask. I sound defeated—because I am.

He’s got me in a metaphorical chokehold. He knows I’d do anything to keep Mama safe, the same way I tried to keep Rosa safe all those years ago. He knows my weakness and he’s not ashamed to use it against me even if it means holding his own wife hostage. Like I said… he’s evil.

“Immediately. I have no patience left to offer you, Belladonna. Your alphas have been given a mild sedative, which will make it easy for you to gather what you need and leave. If you are not in position in the next thirty minutes, you will be held solely responsible for what happens to your mother,andyour men.”

My entire being trembles with a mix of fear and naked rage. I have the urge to defend myself, to make my case, but I know it would be useless. He has been manipulating me behind my back this whole time, and I never even suspected it.