Page 41 of Hunter

That’s fucked up, Sophia.

I exhale slowly, trying to let go of the anger. I step away from the bag and sit on the floor, leaning against the wall. Maxim has been teaching me to fight, helping me rebuild my strength, and it has been working. We’re taking it slow, but I can tell he’s holding back. He’s trying not to overwhelm me.

I take a long drink from my water bottle, trying to wash away the tension in my head. There are too many questions I can’t answer. Why did the puppet master kidnap me? What does he gain by putting me at the center of this twisted game? Maxim and Luca don’t have all the answers either. They’ve told me their sides, but they’re both missing pieces.

The puppet master set this all up, from hiding me from Maxim to manipulating Luca into finding me instead. But why?Was it just to stir up hatred between Maxim and Luca, to use Maxim’s fury as a weapon to get rid of Luca? Or is there something more to this? And where do I fit into all of it?

The questions are a constant buzz in my head, growing louder with every passing minute. I can feel my headache intensifying. How does Maxim deal with this kind of chaos for a living? How does his brain not explode from all the unanswered questions?

Suddenly, I hear boots pounding on the floor. It’s Maxim. His worried tone reaches me before he even gets close.

“Sophia?”

His footsteps get louder, and then his hands are on my shoulders, shaking me slightly. I don’t respond. Maybe if I ignore him, he’ll think I’m asleep and leave me alone.

I refuse to answer. I can’t deal with his hovering right now. I can’t deal with his concern, his constant checking in. I’m not a fragile thing. I’m not a broken girl who needs to be guarded.

His voice comes again, softer this time, full of concern. “Are you okay?”

I stay silent. The last thing I want is to have this conversation again. I want him to stop looking at me like I’m some delicate object, something to be protected at all costs. I need him to treat me like I’m still the woman he fell in love with. I’m not a broken thing that might shatter if touched too hard.

Maxim’s hand rests lightly on my shoulder, and I can feel the weight of his concern in every touch. It should be comforting, but all it does is remind me I’m not the woman I used to be. I’ll never be the same again.

He gently removes my hand from my face and replaces it with his own, his touch trembling slightly. “What’s wrong?” His voice cracks with concern, and the frantic tone sends a spark of anger through me.

I snap. Grabbing his hands, I push them away from me, standing abruptly and glaring at him. He rises slowly, cautiously, his eyes wide with concern, both eyebrows raised in disbelief. His hands are outstretched, as though he’s ready to rush to me if needed.

I groan, fighting the urge to lash out. I need space—space to breathe, to calm down. I try to walk away, to get some distance, but I stop myself, knowing I’m on the edge of saying something I’ll regret.

“Where are you going, Sophia?” he asks, his voice low but firm. I ignore him and keep walking toward the door.

“Sophia,” he calls again, louder this time. “What the fuck is going on?” His voice is tinged with frustration now, but I keep moving, my heart racing, thudding in my ears.

Before I can reach the doorknob, his hand catches mine, yanking me around to face him. I brace myself for anger. For frustration. For anything other than what I see in his eyes—pure, unrelenting worry. I wanted something else. Anger, even hatred, would have been easier to handle than that soft, desperate concern.

“Sophia, please. Tell me what’s wrong,” he pleads, his voice breaking, and I can’t hold it in any longer.

I laugh—it’s bitter, hollow. “What’s wrong? Do you really want to know what’s wrong, Maxim?” The words come out sharp, laced with anger, every syllable stabbing into the tension between us.

“Yes,” he says, his tone weary, almost resigned.

“You,” I spit, the venom slipping out without restraint. “You are what’s wrong with me.” I see the pain flash across his face as I take a step back. He releases my hand as though I’ve struck him. He stumbles back, wounded by my words.

“Your constant hovering,” I continue, my voice trembling now, but I can’t stop. It’s like word vomit, everything I’ve keptburied rushing to the surface. “You’re suffocating me.” I exhale sharply, my heart sinking as I watch the hurt spread across his face. I didn’t want to cause him pain, but it’s too late to take it back.

His lips press together, his nostrils flaring as his anger finally takes shape. “Are you fucking serious right now, Sophia?” His voice rises, raw with emotion, and the heat of his anger sparks something deep inside me. This is what I’ve been waiting for—this fire, this fight, this emotion.

“I’ve been making damn sure to give you the space you asked for, and you’re telling me I’m suffocating you?” His voice cracks, rising another octave as he squares his shoulders, getting ready for a fight. The heat of his anger washes over me like a wave, and despite everything, it stirs something deep within me.

“How is hovering over me, asking me if I’m okay every five seconds, giving me space?” I retort, exasperated, the words tumbling out faster than I can control. “You walk around like I’m a ticking time bomb that could explode at any moment. It’s…it’s…” The anger surges again, almost choking me.

I pause, taking a deep breath to steady myself, to let the fire die down. “It’s infuriating,” I mutter more calmly, the words coming out softer but still sharp. Screaming won’t fix anything.

He doesn’t say anything for a moment, but his expression shifts. The fury on his face is replaced by a raw, almost aching vulnerability as he steps closer to me, the space between us shrinking. His breath is warm against my skin. The heat of his body wraps around me like a storm, and I feel both trapped and comforted by it.

“How dare you stand here and chastise me, telling me I’m suffocating you when for months, all I did was give you the space you needed?” His words come out in a rush, raw and full of frustration. “Blaming me for everything, pushing me away,looking at me like I’m the enemy. I had no other choice but to silently accept that’s how you saw me.”

His voice cracks, and his eyes burn with emotion, the storm inside them threatening to break free.

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