Page 100 of Hunter

The words hit me like a slap. Half-sister?

Behind me, Maxim thrashes against his restraints, the wooden legs of his chair scraping and slamming against the floor. The sound jolts me, but it’s her words that reverberate in my skull, freezing me.

“What do you mean, half-sister?” I demand, my voice sharp and edged with panic.

But she doesn’t answer.

Seconds stretch into eternity, and I’m about to scream the question again when the sound of heels clicking against the floor draws my attention.

To my left.

I pivot, gun still raised, aiming toward the noise. My pulse thunders in my ears as her silhouette emerges from the shadows.

“Put the gun down, Sophia,” she says, her tone dripping with mockery. “You’re a pacifist. You’re not going to do shit with that thing except hurt yourself.”

Something inside me snaps.

My finger presses the trigger, and a deafening crack fills the room. The bullet embeds itself in the floor, inches from her feet.

Jenny stops in her tracks, her lips curling into a slow, condescending smile. She doesn’t scream. She doesn’t flinch. Instead, she begins to clap—a slow, mocking applause that makes my skin crawl.

“Look at you,” she sneers, her voice laced with amusement. “Someone’s grown some balls. I’m proud of you, mi media hermana.” She emphasizes “half” like it’s a weapon meant to wound.

She steps closer, and Maxim thrashes harder, his muffled screams rising in urgency. Jenny glances at him, her smile widening.

“Someone’s a little protective, isn’t he?” she muses.

I move with her, matching her step for step, refusing to let her close the distance to Maxim.

“Why are we here, Jenny? And what the hell do you mean by half-sister?” I demand again, lowering the gun slightly in a gesture of restraint. I don’t want a fight—I want answers.

Jenny smirks, tilting her head as if weighing her options. “Oh, sweetheart, you’re not the only protective one,” she says in a singsong voice, glancing over her shoulder at Maxim. “Right, little brother?”

My stomach drops.

I whip my head toward Maxim, whose expression mirrors the storm of confusion crashing inside me. His blue eyes narrow, the question burning in his gaze the same as the one now roaring in my mind.

Little brother?

My thoughts scatter. Nausea churns violently in my stomach as I piece together her words. No. No, that can’t be. He can’t be my brother. She called me half-sister, meaning Maxim is her brother—not mine.

But the panic doesn’t fade.

My free hand instinctively moves to my belly, brushing against it. The movement is subtle and subconscious, but it’s enough.

Maxim’s entire body goes still, his piercing gaze locking onto the gesture. His eyes ignite, molten blue fire scorching into me as realization dawns in them.

Shit.

I shake my head slightly, pleading with him silently.Not now. Not here. We’ll talk later. I promise.

His expression hardens, his eyes narrowing in silent refusal. There’s no way he’s letting this go.

I swallow the rising lump in my throat, guilt clawing at me.You were going to tell him, Sophia. Eventually, but deep down, I know I’ve been putting it off for nearly two months, too afraid of his reaction, too afraid of the storm already surrounding us.

Focus.

This isn’t the time or place. Maxim’s anger is a fire I’ll have to face later. For now, I need to get us out of here alive.

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