Page 87 of Hunter

I glance over my shoulder, raising a brow. “Ten minutes? You underestimate me, Luca. Five, tops.”

Danny groans, his head lolling forward as he mutters, “You’re both fucking insane.”

“Maybe,” I say with a smirk. “But you’re the one hanging by chains in my basement. So, who’s really losing here?”

Sophia’s voice cuts through the tension, soft but firm. “Maxim.”

I turn to her, my expression softening slightly. She looks pale but determined, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. “What if he’s telling the truth?”

“He probably is,” I reply bluntly.

Her brows furrow, confusion clouding her face. “Then why are you?—”

“Because I want to hear it,” I interrupt, my voice sharp. “And he’s going to tell me, one way or another.”

Danny chuckles darkly, his voice weak but mocking. “Careful, sweetheart. You might not like what you hear.”

I step forward, grabbing his jaw again and forcing him to look at me. “That’s not your concern.” My voice drops to a deadly whisper. “Start talking. Now.”

I pull my Glock from its holster, the cold metal steady in my hand. “As riveting as this staring contest is, I don’t have all day.” I press the barrel under Danny’s chin, forcing his head up. “So I suggest you start talking before I decide the cat isn’t the only one holding your tongue.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Sophia take an involuntary step forward. But before she can do anything reckless, Luca’s hand clamps down on her shoulder, stopping her in her tracks.Has she lost her mind? What does she think she’s going to do—protect him?

Rage flashes through me as I catch Danny’s eyes flicking toward her. There’s hatred in his gaze, pure and unfiltered, and it sends me over the edge. I slam the butt of my Glock into his temple, the satisfying crack of metal against bone cutting through the silence. His head snaps to the side, a grunt of pain escaping his throat, and a dark, primal part of me feels sated.

I grip his face tightly, forcing him to look at me again. His pupils are dilated, his breath uneven. “You don’t fucking look at her,” I snarl, my voice low and venomous. “If I catch your eyes on her again, I’ll pluck them out of their sockets. Remember your anatomy—you talk with your mouth, not your eyes.”

Danny coughs out a laugh, his lips curling into a thin, mocking line. “I’m shaking in my boots.”

“You will be,” I say, my voice dropping to a whisper as a wicked smile spreads across my face. “By the time I’m done with you, you’ll wish you never opened your mouth at all.”

Just for fun, I punch him square in the jaw. His head snaps back, blood spurting from his split lip. I pull back for another hit, but the sharp sound of Sophia’s gasp behind me gives me pause.

I turn, my gaze finding her instantly. She’s standing rigid in the corner, her hands covering her mouth, her eyes wide and shining with unshed tears. Her entire body is trembling, and I feel the first pangs of guilt gnawing at me.

“Let’s go outside,” I say, my voice softer now. Sophia isn’t cut out for this—she doesn’t have the stomach for it, and I should’ve known better than to let her be here.

Luca nods, stepping forward to take over with Danny as I guide Sophia up the stairs and out into the cool night air. The crisp breeze hits us the moment we step outside, but it doesn’t seem to help her trembling. She turns to face me, her expression a mixture of fear, anger, and determination.

“You should go home, Sophia,” I say gently, reaching up to cradle her face in my hands.

She starts to shake her head, but I hold her still. “No, listen to me. If just a few minutes in that room shook you up this much, I can’t imagine how you’ll handle what comes next.”

“I want to stay,” she says, her voice steadier now. “I need to stay.”

I blow out an exasperated breath, my hands dropping to my sides. “Please, Sophia,” I say, my tone sharper now. “For once, do as I say. What you saw in there? It’s nothing compared to what’s about to happen. This isn’t about protecting you—this is about preserving you. You’re my sun, Sophia. You shine light into the darkest parts of me. I don’t want that light to dim because of what you’ll see.”

I step closer, pressing my forehead against hers, letting my voice drop to a whisper. “Hearing about it is one thing. Seeing it? That’s different. That changes you. And I don’t want that for you.”

She doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, she tilts her head slightly, her expression thoughtful, her breathing slow as she processes what I’ve said.

I stand still, every muscle in my body tense as I wait for her response. When she finally nods, some of the weight lifts off my chest.

“Alright,” she says quietly. “You’re right. I won’t go back inside. But—” She looks up at me, her eyes still blazing with determination. “I want to hear what he says. I don’t want to sit around waiting for hours only to get a watered-down version of the truth. Can we figure something out?”

Relief floods me, but I can’t help the smirk that tugs at my lips. “You’re relentless,” I mutter, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face.

“And you’re stubborn,” she shoots back, a faint smile breaking through her worry.

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