Page 22 of Hunted to the Altar
Nina
The cold steelof reality wrapped itself around me the moment Samuel announced we were leaving. No explanation, no chance to question. His word was final, an unyielding law that suffocated me with its weight. I barely had time to slip-on shoes before he grabbed my arm, his grip firm but not bruising—at least, not yet.
Every instinct in me screamed to resist, to fight, even as I knew how useless it was. I kicked out, my heels connecting with his shin, but the man barely flinched. Instead, his lips curved into something darkly amused, like he was enjoying this minor rebellion of mine.
“Stop it,” I snarled, yanking at his hold. “You don’t own me, Samuel!”
His eyes flickered with something unreadable—irritation, perhaps, or maybe patience wearing thin. “Keep fighting, Nina, and you’ll see how much restraint I’m using right now.” His voice was calm, too calm, which only made me struggle harder.
“I’m not yours!” I screamed, twisting my body, trying to break his hold. My elbow jabbed into his side, but he didn’t so much as flinch. My resistance only seemed to amuse him further, the dark smirk on his face growing wider.
“Not yet,” he said, almost conversationally, like we were discussing the weather. “But you will be.”
“Never!” My voice cracked as I kicked at him again, my movements frantic and uncoordinated. “I’d rather die.”
Samuel’s grip tightened, his fingers like iron around my wrist. “Don’t say things you don’t mean,” he said coolly. “You will not die, Nina. Not on my watch. But you are going to come with me. Kicking and screaming.”
Before I could protest further, he hoisted me over his shoulder like a sack of grain. My fists pummeled his back, and I screamed loud enough to make my throat raw, but it was no use. He carried me effortlessly, like I weighed nothing at all.
“Put me down, you bastard!” I shrieked, my legs kicking wildly.
“Do you ever stop talking?” Samuel’s voice was laced with dry amusement, his tone maddeningly calm. “Save your energy, Nina. You’re going to need it.”
I hated how composed he was, how unaffected by my struggles. It only made me fight harder, twisting and thrashing against him. “You can’t do this! You have no right!”
“I have every right,” he said simply, his voice low and steady. “And you’ll come to understand that soon enough.”
I let out another shout, the sound echoing uselessly in the hallway as he carried me outside to the waiting car. My heart pounded in my chest, and panic clawed at my throat as the reality of my situation sank in. This wasn’t just some nightmare I could wake up from. This was my life now, and Samuel Caputo was determined to control every aspect.
By the time we reached the chapel tucked away on one of the Caputo family’s many properties, my voice was hoarse from yelling, and my body ached from struggling. He finally set me down, but his grip on my arm remained firm, his blue eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made my breath catch.
“Enough, Nina,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “You’re not going anywhere, so stop wasting your energy.”
I glared at him, my chest heaving as I tried to catch my breath. “You’re a monster,” I spat, my voice trembling with anger. “You think you can just…take me, like I’m some kind of…”
“Like you’re mine,” he interrupted smoothly, his gaze unyielding. “Because you are, Nina.”
I yanked my arm, trying to pull away, but Samuel’s grip was iron. I hated how calm he looked, as though none of this mattered to him. As though my struggles were just some mild inconvenience he had to deal with. His composure infuriated me, making me feel smaller and weaker.
“You’ll never own me,” I said through clenched teeth. “I’m not a thing you can possess.”
Samuel raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking into that infuriating smirk again. “You can keep saying that, Nina, but it won’t change anything. Words won’t free you. Actions won’t either.” He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to an indistinct murmur. “The sooner you accept that, the easier this will be for you.”
Before I could respond, another man stepped out of the shadows. Marcello was tall and lean, his face shadowed but not unkind. He wore the black cassock of a priest, and his dark eyes assessed me with a mixture of curiosity and sympathy. His presence was so calm and steady, it was almost disarming.
“Nina,” Marcello greeted softly, his voice carrying the warmth that Samuel never would. “You must be terrified.”
I blinked, startled by his candor, by the lack of pretense in his tone. “You think?”
Samuel’s grip tightened slightly, a warning. But Marcello held up a hand, his gaze shifting to Samuel with quiet authority. “Samuel, let her speak. She has every right to her fear.”
“Fear doesn’t keep her alive, Marcello,” Samuel countered, his voice a low growl. “I do.”
Marcello sighed, the sound weary but resigned. “And you think she doesn’t know that?”
The tension between them was thick enough to choke on, but it was Marcello who finally turned back to me. His expression softened, and for the first time since Samuel, I felt like someone was actually looking at me—not as a problem to be solved or a pawn to be controlled, but as a person.
“Nina,” Marcello said gently, his hands clasped in front of him. “I know this must feel like a nightmare. And I’m sorry you’ve been dragged into our world. But you need to understand something.” He hesitated, his gaze flickering briefly to Samuel before returning to me. “Rejecting Samuel’s protection isn’t an option. Not for you. Not for anyone.”
