Page 97 of Hunted By Valentine

I nod like that makes sense, which it doesn’t with the way he’s treated me. “Sure,” I agree, sarcastically. I take a deep breath, steeling myselffor the words that’ve been building inside me for years. But Michael suddenly starts coughing.

He reaches for his glass, but it’s empty apart from the ice cubes. Unsure what to do, I lean closer and pour all my wine into his glass. It’s a testament to how violently he’s coughing that he doesn’t berate me. But he doesn’t even roll his eyes as he greedily drinks most of the wine I just poured him.

“You ruined everything,” I say, my voice shaking. “I’ll never get to have a normal life because of you.”

Clearing his throat, he runs his uninjured hand down his face. His eyes are bloodshot like some of the vessels have combusted. “So what?” he says between coughs. “So fucking what? I bought you, so you’re mine to do with as I please.”

I watch him for several minutes as he continues to cough, even doubling over a few times. His color changes from healthy to sickly pale, almost green, and then to red. It’s fascinating to watch this poison at work.

“Not anymore,” I say as there’s a pause in the coughing.

“What do you mean?” he splutters. “You’re mine for life, Ruby. You seem to be forgetting—” He’s interrupted by more coughing.

Knowing that this is the time, I toe my shoe off and bend down so I can reach the paper. I take my time unfolding it before I hold it up to show him. “This says my life belongs to the Hunter, and that you’re not allowed to lay a finger on me.” I barely recognize my own tone as I speak the words. I sound completely hollow, like it’s not affecting me at all.

That isn’t the truth, though. I’m very much affected, I just refuse to show him.

Michael’s eyes widen. “W-where did you g-get t-that?” His words grow more and more strained, and he claws at his shirt, tearing the top buttons off while gasping for air.

“That’s my business,” I say coldly. God, I hope Valentine has found a non-lethal way to deal with Marco already. Because if the latter heard what I just said, he’s already on the phone to Nick. “And apparently, I’m yours. Literally. First you bought me, then you paid to get rid of me. It’s almost symbolic.”

A thought strikes me, inspired by what I said before. I look down at Michael’s hand, wondering if that’s… did Valentine do that? I wish I knew.

Michael tries to laugh, but it turns into a choking cough. I watch him with a cold, detached indifference, my heart pounding in my chest. I take great satisfaction in knowing he’s so scared of me that he hired the Hunter to kill me instead of doing it himself.

“What date is it today?” I ask my husband. He doesn’t answer me, too busy trying to breathe. Good, I’m glad he knows what it feels like when someone else robs you of something as simple and essential as air. “We’re days into February, and I’m still alive. But you…” I pause for dramatic effect. “Won’t be alive to—”

The scream coming from me as Michael lunges for me is more instinct—trauma—than anything else. With a sickening gurgle he falls off the couch, rolling to his front. One of his arms is reaching toward me as though he’s begging for my help.

The sound of pounding footsteps reaches me, and I don’t need to turn around to know Valentine is here, in the room with us. I hear him move closer, but don’t tear my gaze away from my husband as he lies there, immobile, and, hopefully, scared.

God, I hope he’s scared, fearing for his life like he’s made me to feel too many times to count. I let a cold smile pull the corners of my lips upward. “Do you honestly think I’m going to save you?” I ask, tilting my head to the side.

My body hums as Valentine wraps an arm around me, pulling my back flush against his chest. “Having fun, Pet?”

Chapter 36

The Hunter

“Iam,” she replies, leaning back against me.

Despite the broken man lying face down on the floor, wheezing, it’s Ruby that has my attention. She looks like a goddess as she stands tall, looking down at her husband with contempt in her eyes. My anger toward her for drugging me and attempting to flee still simmers beneath the surface, but I push it down for now.

In a flash, I spin her around so she’s facing me. “Val—”

Her eyes widen as I lift her up, one arm winding around her back as I crush her to me. She quickly winds her arms and legs around me, holding on to me with all her strength. Then she lets me capture her lips in a vicious kiss before pulling away.

She doesn’t create much distance, she’s still tantalizingly close, and with each exhale, her breath fans across my skin. “You lied to me,” she accuses.

If I were a better man, I’d hear her out, and then explain myself. But I’m not a better man, I’m not even a decent man. So I go to reclaim her lips, growling when she evades me. “Pet—”

“I told you not to call me that,” she hisses, interrupting me. “Are you even sorry for all that you’ve done?”

I move my hand up her back, wrapping it around the back of her neck. I squeeze until she gasps. “No,” I growl. “I don’t believe in regret, and I sure as hell don’t feel it. If you want pretty words, you’re climbing the wrong body.”

When she opens her mouth again, I swoop in, sliding my hand from her neck to her throat while nipping at her lips until she parts for me. She tastes of red wine and sin, a delicious cocktail. Her hold on me tightens, and she whimpers into my mouth as her tongue snakes around mine.

The kiss is slow and languorous. I’m in no hurry, and it seems she isn’t either.

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