Page 56 of Hunter

Just as I’m about to respond, Steff’s voice cuts through the air. “What are you two lovebirds whispering about over there?”

“Nothing,” Sophia says quickly, her face flushing. At the same time, I mutter, “My killing tendencies.”

Sophia’s eyes widen, her heart rate quickening as she tries to cover her anxiety with a forced laugh. “He’s such a jokester,” she says, her tone too light to be convincing. She smacks my chest, and I stifle my amusement, pressing my hand over my mouth.

Steff leans back in her chair, arms outstretched, and shrugs. “Hey, if you want to end these fuckers for bullying Sophia, I’ll gladly help you.”

The words hit me like a slap to the face. My body tenses, my breath catching in my throat. My jaw clenches, and I force myself to stay still. Bullying? These people bullied her? A flash of an eight-year-old Sophia, curled up in bed with tear-streaked cheeks, hovers before my eyes. The image burns in my chest, threatening to choke me. My fists clench tight, the nails digging into my skin, the sting a sharp reminder I have to control myself.

She’s too good for this. Sophia’s heart is gold, pure and untainted, and no one—not even the people who should have protected her—deserves to have her in their lives. They’ve tainted her spirit, broken her trust. The fury within me swells, but I hold it in, my body rigid with the effort.

Sophia is speaking again, but I don’t hear her at first. The blood pounding in my ears drowns out everything else. It takes several deep breaths, slowly exhaling the rage that threatens to explode before I catch the last word of her sentence.

“Dance?” I repeat, my voice hoarse with the restraint.

She nods, her eyes soft, a quiet question in her gaze. “Would you like to dance?”

I blink several times, shaking myself out of my anger-fueled haze, realizing Sophia is standing with her hand outstretched, waiting for me to take it. Across the yard, her cousin is distracted, grabbing food. How long have I been lost in my thoughts?

Sophia’s voice breaks through my fog. “Isn’t it supposed to be the man who asks the woman to dance?” She places her hands on her hips and rolls her eyes, amusement dancing across her features.

I raise an eyebrow. “When did we turn back time to the eighteen hundreds?” She laughs, and I can’t help but join her. Standing, I take her hand.

“Lead the way, my lady.”

A triumphant grin spreads across her face, and that smile—thatsmile—melts away the anger still simmering in me, leaving me relaxed and calm. We join a small group already dancing in the middle of the yard. The moment we step in, I feel the weight of the eyes on us. Sophia, however, doesn’t seem to care; her expression is relaxed and unbothered, and she keeps her gaze locked on mine. It’s as if the world around us has faded into nothingness, leaving just the two of us. The soft intro of a pianomelody wraps around us like a warm embrace, drawing us into our own private bubble.

“What are you smiling at?” she asks, her voice light with curiosity.

“Let’s give your family a show.” A wicked grin spreads across my face.

She arches an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. “What do you mean?” But before she can press further, I pull her into me, the rush of air escaping her lips followed by a delighted laugh. When she’s positioned exactly where I want her, I place my left hand at the small of her back, and she places her right hand on my shoulder. With my right hand, I take hers, and we begin to move together.

Her movements are fluid and easy as we fall into rhythm, our bodies swaying in time to the music. The world fades as we lose ourselves in the moment, our bodies connected, the music guiding us, the tension of earlier vanishing entirely. Her chocolate-brown eyes shine, and that smile of hers widens, lighting up her face.

I can’t help myself. I start singing along to the song, my voice steady but my heart racing with the joy of having her in my arms.

She smiles softly and starts singing the Spanish part of the song, her voice blending with mine. She’s completely lost in the moment, happy, carefree—like nothing in the past few months matters.

I twirl then dip her, my lips brushing hers in a quick, passionate kiss before I lift her back up, her eyes sparkling with pure happiness.

The ring that has been nestled in my pocket for months feels like it’s weighing a thousand pounds. This moment feels perfect, but not with an audience. I know when I do ask her to marry me, she’ll want it to be just us, no one else around. The thoughtweighs heavily on me, but I push it to the back of my mind for now.

I connect my forehead to hers, breathing in the scent of her skin, making this moment feel even more intimate. Her eyes flutter open, meeting mine.

“You look beautiful, Sophia.”

A soft pink blush rises on her cheeks, and I can’t resist pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek, my lips lingering for a moment before I pull back.

“You’re not too shabby yourself, Volkov.”

“That’s the nicest compliment anyone has ever given me,” I joke, allowing the words to hang between us on a playful edge.

She slaps my chest lightly. “Your ego is already bigger than this planet. We can’t have it growing any more. What would be left for the rest of us?”

“Oh God, no, we can’t have that.”

“I’m glad you understand the conundrum,” she says, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

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