Page 86 of Hunter

His smile widens, a flicker of pride in his eyes as he threads his fingers through mine. “That’s my girl.”

And just like that, the moment of hesitation passes. As we walk hand in hand, my mind races. Whoever this person is, they must be important for Maxim to bring me along.

THIRTY-THREE

MAXIM

People don’t realize karma is a bitch, and when she comes knocking, she doesn’t bother with pleasantries. She brings her fury, her vengeance, and sometimes—like tonight—she uses me as her weapon. I don’t mind. I’ve always enjoyed serving justice on her behalf. But tonight, I’m going to savor it even more. Tonight, I’ll be her executioner, and it’s going to be personal.

My hand tightens around the doorknob leading to the basement, the cold metal grounding me for a moment before I yank it open. The creak of the hinges echoes through the still air as I flip on the lights, casting a dim, yellowish glow down the concrete stairs.

“Let’s go,” I say, my voice low but firm as I lead Sophia down the steps. Luca follows a step behind, the weight of his silence adding to the tension.

The moment we reach the bottom, Sophia gasps, her breath catching audibly in her throat. Her wide eyes land on the man hanging before us, his wrists bound above his head by chains anchored to the ceiling. Blood stains his shirt, smeared across his face from earlier…preparations.

She turns to me, her brows pulling together in confusion and horror. “Danny?” she whispers, the name trembling on her lips. “Danny is the middleman?”

I smirk, stepping closer to the bastard. “Yes, Danny is the middleman,” I confirm, my tone oozing satisfaction. I slam my hand down on his shoulder, making him flinch. “Small world, huh?”

Sophia’s gaze flickers nervously between Danny and me. Her voice is quieter this time, almost pleading. “Are you sure it’s him, Maxim? Are you absolutely sure?”

Her doubt pricks at me, but I shove the feeling aside. I get it. This isn’t just anyone; it’s someone she knows—someone she trusted. A family friend. A man she has known for years.

I circle Danny slowly, enjoying the way his body tenses at my proximity. “Should I answer her, or would you like the honors, Danny?” I ask my voice light, mocking. I grab the tape covering his mouth and rip it off in one clean motion, waiting for the usual reaction—a grunt, a scream, some kind of resistance.

Nothing.

Instead, he looks me dead in the eye, defiance glinting like shards of glass in his gaze.

A slow grin spreads across my face. Oh, this one thinks he’s tough. He thinks he can take whatever I throw at him. Men like him are always the same—delusional. They think they’re unbreakable, that pain can’t touch them. But they’re wrong. Breaking men like him is an art, and tonight, I’ll make a masterpiece.

I sigh in faint disappointment before backhanding him across the face with enough force to snap his head to the side. The slap echoes through the basement. Blood trickles from the corner of his mouth as I grip his face, forcing him to look at me again.

“Didn’t anyone ever teach you how rude it is to ignore a question?” I tighten my grip, my fingers digging into his jaw.

Danny’s lips twitch, and a low, raspy chuckle escapes him. “You sure you want me to talk, Volkov?” he croaks, his voice rough from disuse. “I know things—things that could turn your world on its head.”

My eyes narrow as he glances meaningfully at Luca before meeting my gaze again. “I know things that could turn everyone’s world upside down.”

For a second, his words hang in the air, and I let them. My grip loosens as I step back, studying his face.

He’s not bluffing. I’ve spent my entire life reading people, and this one? He’s got something.

“Enlighten us, then,” I say, crossing my arms casually.

For the first time, Danny falters, his eyes widened slightly, as if he wasn’t expecting me to call his bluff so easily. Idiot.

We stare each other down, the seconds stretching into what feels like hours. The only sound is the faint hum of the light above us.

When he doesn’t speak, my patience snaps. I slam my fist into his gut, earning a wheezing gasp as the air rushes out of him.

“You think I’m scared of your little secrets?” I hiss, leaning in close. “You’re going to tell me everything you know, whether you want to or not.”

He coughs, struggling to catch his breath, but he still manages a weak grin. “That temper of yours,” he rasps, “just like your father. No patience. That’s going to get you killed one day, you know.”

The mention of my father makes my blood boil, but I don’t take the bait. I smirk instead, letting the anger simmer beneath the surface. “Funny. My impatience is exactly why you’re here, Danny. Let’s see how long you last before you’re begging to talk.”

Luca snorts from behind me, the sound breaking the tension for a brief second. “I give him ten minutes,” he says, his tone casual but laced with amusement.

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