Page 3 of Hunter

Then, a shadow looms over me. A man’s form hovers above me, and for a brief, terrible second, I think this is it. This is where my life ends. He bends down and strikes me across the head, and the last words I hear before everything goes dark are:

“You thought you could escape.”

ONE

MAXIM

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” I slam my phone on the dashboard, the sound rattling through the car, my scream a raw mixture of rage and sorrow. That son of a fucking bitch took her. I should’ve thought about him sooner. How could I have been so goddamn stupid? Luca Varoni should’ve been the first name on my list to question. How the hell did I ignore the warning signs? I slam the steering wheel with both hands, the sharp crack echoing in my ears. I swear on everything I have—Luca is going to regret the fucking day he was born.

I grip the steering wheel so hard, my knuckles turn white. You failed her. The thought claws at me, consuming my mind. This is all my fault. I was supposed to protect her. I promised her. Now look where we are.

Andrei’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts, but I can’t answer him. I open my mouth to speak, but no words come out. My brain is a storm of rage, regret, and panic, all spiraling faster than I can process.You failed her.

“Tell me you found her.” The words scrape out, rough and broken, my throat tight as fire burns through my chest. My vision blurs at the edges, a haze of panic and fury I can’t contain.Every second feels like a knife twisting deeper, the silence threatening to crush me.

You failed her.

You failed her.

You failed her.

You failed her.

Those words are a broken record in my head. How could I let this happen? I promised I would never let anyone touch her, harm her, and I couldn’t even keep that promise. All this time, I thought I was keeping her safe, but I’ve brought the hell of my world to her doorstep.

You can’t change the past.

The voice in my head is right. I can’t fix what has already been done, but I sure as hell can make sure Luca pays for this. I’ll take everything from him—everything. It’s time to let the beast out.

“Yes, I tracked her using the number she called you from. The GPS says she’s six and a half hours from Miami, in a town called Lauderhill Lake,” Andrei says, but his words barely break through the storm raging in my head. The pounding in my skull drowns out everything else. I slam the pedal to the floor, the engine roaring in protest as the car surges forward. Reckless doesn’t matter. Nothing matters but the clock ticking against me. Six and a half hours? I’ll make it three if it kills me—because losing her isn’t an option.

Hold on, baby. I’m coming.

When the GPS announces we’ve arrived, I don’t hesitate. There has been too much of that already. I spring into action, slamming the brakes, throwing the car into park, grabbing my gun, and storming out. I don’t give a damn if Andrei’s got my back—this is on me. I reach the entrance of the alley and stop. My gun is out in front of me, my heart thundering as I peek around the corner, scanning for any signs of an ambush.

That’s when I see Luca leaning against the wall, looking like he hasn’t got a care in the world, like he hasn’t just torn apart the only reason I have to breathe. My nostrils flare, fury shooting through me. He meets my eyes, that smug grin of his setting my blood on fire. Ignoring everything—Andrei’s shout, the logical part of my brain telling me to think—I point my gun at Luca and walk toward him, step by step, every inch of my body aching with rage.

“Stop,” Andrei’s voice cuts through the rage-filled fog clouding my mind.

I scoff, a sharp, bitter sound. Stop? Is he serious? Luca is right there, within arm’s reach, close enough for me to end this. The thought of letting him slip away tightens something primal in my chest. I don’t have time for plans, for thinking, only for action. When I reach him, I stop and press the gun to his forehead. His smirk never wavers, like he’s untouchable. He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t make a move to pull his gun— he only watches me as if he has been waiting for this moment.

“Where the fuck is she, Luca?” I growl, pushing the barrel deeper into his skin. He doesn’t respond. Instead, he calmly reaches into his pocket. My muscles coil in anticipation, expecting him to pull out a weapon. Instead, he produces a fucking black comb.

Is this a joke?

I don’t know whether to laugh or scream. He’s playing games like we’re in a fucking movie. Luca looks at me, his eyes dancingwith that same gleam of mischief. “Where is who?” he asks, and my rage erupts. I don’t think. I swing the butt of my gun into his face, the impact knocking that damn smile off his lips. Blood spills from his mouth, but he doesn’t even seem to care.

“Where is she?” I ask again, voice low and dangerous, pressing the gun back to his temple. Still nothing. Instead, he wipes the blood with his thumb, his eyes twinkling with a maddening calmness. “Stop acting brave, Luca. You know what I’m capable of.” I punch his ribs. He doesn’t make a sound, doesn’t flinch. It’s aggravating.

“Do you not remember how I got my nickname?” I ask, voice colder than ice. “Answer me.” He nods.Good. I press harder into his neck, putting strain on his airways. “Do you think it’s wise to fuck with me?” I whisper.

His eyes are unblinking, unwavering. Then, with a smile that makes my blood run cold, he mutters, “You don’t scare me, Maxim.” But I can see it: a flicker of fear behind those eyes. He’s lying.

“Those were the exact words your father said to me right before I blew his brains out.” The memories flood back—torturing his father, feeling the heat of blood and the satisfaction of power.

Luca’s face hardens, his jaw locking. “That pezzo di merda deserved it.” His eyes narrow, a shift in his demeanor. “I never properly thanked you for that. You freed me from the devil.” I raise an eyebrow. Luca had a twisted relationship with him, more than I ever realized.

“Where is she, Luca?”

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