Page 33 of Hunter

I’m not in the right headspace to have sex with Maxim. As much as I love him—and I do, despite everything that has happened—it isn’t what I need right now. What I’m battling isn’t something sex can fix. No matter how badly I want to give in, it would only be a temporary patch, like placing tape over a crack.

My hands press against his chest, gently pushing him back. Relief floods through me when he steps away without resistance, understanding my unspoken boundary.

I exhale slowly. “I haven’t entirely forgiven you,” I admit, my voice soft but firm. “Taking this to the next level…it means so much more than just the act itself. If—or when—that happens, it’ll be because I’ve forgiven you.”

His gaze is steady as he forces me to meet his eyes. “I’m not leaving, Sophia. And I’ll never force you to do anything you don’t want to do.” His tone is low, deliberate. “You want to take it slow? Then we’ll go as slow as a turtle.”

A chuckle bubbles out of me unbidden. His expression shifts, amusement quirking his brow.

“Slow?” I ask, my brows knitting together in disbelief. “Maxim Volkov doesn’t know the meaning of slow. You’re more like the rabbit in that tortoise and hare story.”

He smirks, leaning closer. “Turtle slow,” he enunciates, dragging out the words with a deliberate challenge glinting in his eyes.

The playfulness in his tone should ease the knot in my stomach, but instead, doubt claws its way to the surface. Is this really what I want? To take things slow? This is what you wanted, Sophia. Isn’t it?

“Yes,” I tell myself silently. It is what I want.

But the faint tug of unease remains. Why does it feel like we’re making a mistake?

Maxim steps back, breaking the tension. “Let’s go to dinner,” he says, heading into the bungalow to grab his phone and wallet.

“Wait,” I call after him. “I thought we were eating in tonight?”

He doesn’t stop, disappearing toward the bridge. My stomach twists, dread pooling in its depths as tears prick my eyes. This is a mistake. I should’ve followed my instincts and kept him at a distance. He’s going to see how broken I am—how much work it’ll take to fix me—and he’ll walk away without a second thought.

But just as my mind spirals further, he halts abruptly. His shoulders sag as he turns, devastation etched into his face. The apology in his eyes disarms me completely.

“No, beautiful,” he says, stepping closer and taking my hand. “Tomorrow, we’ll dine here.” One corner of his lips lifts in a faint smile. “But tonight, I made reservations at one of the best restaurants on this tiny island.”

I remind myself he’s trying. I’m not giving up on him, and he’s not giving up on me either, even if it’s hard for him—especially for someone like Maxim Volkov, whose default settings are controlling, possessive, and demanding. Kindness, patience, understanding…those don’t come naturally to him. They never did. He wasn’t raised to be a patient man; he was groomed to be a heartless monster.

I force myself to let go of the tension still clinging to me. With a small smile, I tug him forward, hoping to breakthe awkwardness lingering between us. “This place better be amazing if you’re dragging me out of that gorgeous room.”

If it were up to me, I’d never leave. The bungalow is simple—just a king-sized bed, a couch, and a TV like any other hotel room—but it’s the details that captivate me. The glass floor panels that give a perfect view of the ocean below. The spacious terrace with its infinity pool. The steps leading straight down into the water.

And the view… God, the view. When the doors open, it’s nothing but endless blue meeting the horizon. I can’t wait for tonight to see the stars scatter across the sky like diamonds. It’s going to be magical.

We arrive at the restaurant, and Maxim opens the door for me. “Are you sure we can’t just go back to the room?” I ask, half-teasing.

He shakes his head, stifling a laugh. “You’re going to love the food. Trust me.”

Before I can argue further, his phone buzzes in his pocket. His body goes rigid as he pulls it out, glancing at the screen. “It’s my brother,” he mutters, his jaw tightening. “I need to take this.”

Pointing to a hostess by the entrance, he adds, “The reservation’s under my name. Check us in and wait for me at the bar. Get a drink.” He leans down, pressing a quick kiss to my forehead before stepping back outside.

A drink. That sounds…good. Maybe a little alcohol will quiet the storm of thoughts raging in my mind.

I walk to the bar and slide onto a stool, nodding at the bartender. “A Jack on the rocks with a splash of water and a glass of Merlot, please.”

FOURTEEN

SOPHIA

As the bartender prepares my order, my gaze drifts to the glass doors, where Maxim paces outside. The phone is glued to his ear, his free hand gesturing sharply.

My stomach knots. His body was tense the moment he answered. Did something happen?

I know he’s under a lot of pressure. On the way here, he gave me a glimpse of what he’s dealing with—someone trying to destroy his business while he’s pouring all his energy into finding the person behind my kidnapping.

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