Page 9 of Hunter

From the moment I stepped into my father’s world, I craved his approval, even as I despised him. By ten, I had surpassed him, trading my moral compass for the rush—the screams, the power. Andrei thinks I’ve lost my mind, but the truth is, I’ve always been this way. I kept him safe, shielded from our father’s darkness while I embraced it completely.

“Are we done here?” Andrei asks, pulling me from my thoughts. He takes his phone from his pocket. “Marco’s on his way. The man we have tailing him just sent me an update.”

The urge to wait for Marco and end him right here, right now, battles with the rational part of me that knows it’s too soon. This is a game of patience—something I’m not used to—but it’ll be worth it. He will make a mistake and lead him to the person pulling his strings.

It took hours of interrogation and a trail of bodies before someone finally cracked. When they did, they gave me a lead straight to Marco Antonelli. According to them, Marco had contacted him, looking for names of men willing to take on a job like this. But something doesn’t add up. Marco doesn’t have the resources to fund an operation like this. He’s not smart enough to pull off a kidnapping, let alone plan one. It feels like someone else is pulling the strings.

Then there’s Donny, Marco’s pathetic excuse for a son. He was a dead end, completely in the dark about his father’s moves. All he could tell me was Marco had been acting off—more paranoid than usual. He described his father as jumpy, like a man with a noose tightening around his neck. Marcokept muttering about moles and betrayal, moving like a ghost through the shadows of his own paranoia. But as for why or what had him so on edge? Donny had no answers, just the ramblings of a desperate, unraveling man.

Something doesn’t add up, and it’s eating at me.

Luca overhearing his most trusted soldiers talk about the kidnapping has my stomach in knots. It feels like part of a larger plan, a set-up. Whoever’s behind this knows us, knows Luca and me, on a deep level. They understand our weaknesses. I slam my palms on the desk, frustration boiling over.

“Who the fuck took Sophia, and what the fuck do they want?”

Andrei jumps, nearly tripping over his feet. “What the hell, Maxim?”

I roll my eyes, irritated by his surprise. He should always be alert—one day, I might not be here to watch his back.

No matter what it takes, I’ll get to the bottom of this. Whoever is behind this will regret the day they crossed me, made this personal. They’ve fucked with the wrong person. They’ve fucked with what’s mine.

“I knew I’d find you here,” Luca says as he enters the room.

I don’t acknowledge him, my eyes still fixed on Sophia’s pale body. I only leave her side when I’m dealing with business. Otherwise, I’m here, staring at her, praying to a god I don’t believe in, begging for her to return to me. I need to see those deep, chocolate eyes burning with fire again—the fire that used to blaze brighter than the sun.

Luca stands on the other side of the bed. “What information did you get?” The fact that he asks what information, not if I got any, doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Someone has a lot of faith in me,” I reply, my voice tight, my teeth gritted. I’m not in the mood for small talk. But it’s a conversation that needs to happen. He wasn’t here when I arrived, and I’m grateful for that. I needed a chance to process the small bits of information I managed to gather today.

“Faith is a strong word, Maxim. I’d say I’m confident you’ll stop at nothing to get the information you’re after.” He’s not wrong.

With a sigh, I finally lifted my head to meet his gaze. “Someone’s hiding in the shadows, pulling the strings. Donny didn’t know who it was. I’m hoping the gift I left Marco will push him to make a mistake. I need his anger to cloud his judgment.” I pause, eyeing Luca’s reaction. “I’ve bugged his phone and have three men tailing him. No room for mistakes. If any of my men lose him, two others will take over. Marco will lead me to the puppet master. I can feel it.”

“That makes more sense than the whole thing being orchestrated by a dumbass like Marco.” Luca walks over to the couch, pulls out his phone, and sits down.

Before he can bury himself in his screen, I speak, my tone turning accusatory. “There’s something that’s been bothering me all day.”

Luca raises an eyebrow, his eyes sharp. “What’s that?”

“You said you overheard your men talking about someone paying a lot of money.” I don’t miss the subtle tension in his posture. He nods, eyebrows furrowed, waiting for me to continue.

“Where exactly did you hear that?” I ask.

He stares at me, blinking a few times, clearly confused by the direction of my questioning. He leans forward, deep in thought. “In the security room. Why?”

“Where is your security room?”

He answers without hesitation. “Second floor of my New York home.” Then, he narrows his eyes, clearly annoyed. “What the hell are you getting at, Maxim?”

I close my eyes, taking a slow, steady breath, trying to mask my growing frustration. How is he still alive if he’s this fucking stupid?

I let the silence stretch out before continuing. I could tell him outright, but I’m not making it easy on him. “Do you pass by the security room often?” I glare at him, silently pleading for him to use his brain. How is this man still in charge of a mafia empire if he’s this dense?

It takes a moment, but then I see it—the flash of recognition in his eyes. He stands abruptly, flustered, pacing the room. “Fucking shit. They played me.”

“Like a fucking fiddle,” I mutter, a smirk tugging at my lips. It has been a while since I found something amusing.

“I walk past that room every time I go to my office. Whoever’s behind this knows that.” His frustration is palpable, and I can see the wheels turning in his mind. This plan has been in motion for some time.

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