Page 39 of Hunted to the Altar
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Samuel
The roomstill carried the faint metallic tang of blood, despite the diligent cleaning. My men worked swiftly, scrubbing and mopping, but the air hung heavy, oppressive. I stood in front of reinforced windows, wishing I could stare at the sprawling city below. Lights flickered like dying embers, casting a dim reflection on the glass. The weight of the night pressed against my chest, but I shoved it down, as I always did.
The woman who haunted every corner of my mind was behind me, likely pacing or glaring at the furniture like it had offended her. Nina’s presence filled the room even when she was silent, her defiance radiating like a beacon, daring me to look at her. But I couldn’t. Not yet.
The guilt gnawed at me, sharper tonight than usual. She didn’t know—she couldn’t—what my actions had cost her. What I’d let happen. I clenched my jaw and adjusted the cuffs of my shirt, stained and rumpled after the events of the night. Myhands itched to grip something—anything—but I couldn’t allow myself that luxury. Not when she was watching.
“Are you going to keep standing there, or are you going to tell me what the hell is going on?”
Her voice cut through the stillness, sharp and demanding. I turned slowly, taking her in. Nina’s dark curls flew wild and untamed. Her skin, so rich and smooth, glowing. And those eyes—God, those eyes. They burned with an intensity that could undo a lesser man. But I wasn’t a lesser man.
“You’re safe now,” I said simply, my voice calm and even.
She crossed her arms, her defiance almost amusing. “That’s not an answer. Safe from what? And for how long? Because it seems like the walls of this gilded cage aren’t exactly bulletproof.”
I stepped closer, closing the distance between us. Her posture stiffened, but she held her ground. Brave, even when she was terrified. It was one of the many things I admired about her, though I’d never admit it out loud.
“Safe from the men who would use you as a pawn,” I said, my tone softening. “Safe from Picone. And safe from anyone else who dares to think they can touch what belongs to me.”
Her lips parted slightly, and for a fleeting moment, I thought she might say something biting. But instead, her expression shifted, her brow furrowing in confusion.
“Picone,” she repeated, her voice quieter now. “Why does he care about me? I… I’m nobody.”
The words twisted in my chest like a knife. Nobody. If only she knew how wrong she was. I exhaled slowly, raking a hand through my hair.
“You’re not nobody,” I said, stepping even closer. “You’re leverage. Your friendship with Dr. Maya leaves you open to become a unique hostage. To Picone, to my enemies, to anyone who knows what you mean to me.”
Her eyes widened slightly, but she didn’t back away. Instead,she squared her shoulders, the fire in her gaze reigniting. “I mean nothing to you. I’m just…just some woman you caged like a fucking animal.”
The words stung more than they should have, but I let them roll off me. “You’re much more than that,” I said, my voice low. “And you’ll realize it soon enough.”
Her laugh was bitter, a sound that sliced through the tension. “You’re delusional.”
I didn’t respond immediately, letting the silence stretch between us. Finally, I turned and walked to the bar, pouring myself a drink. When she fought me like this, I couldn’t help the fire racing through my veins. The amber liquid caught the light as I swirled it in the glass, my thoughts drifting to the memories I’d locked away for so long.
“You think I don’t know guilt?” I asked suddenly, my back to her. “You think I don’t carry the weight of my choices every damn day?”
She didn’t answer, but I could feel her eyes on me. Waiting.
I turned to face her, the glass in my hand trembling slightly. “I know what it’s like to lose someone because of a choice you made. Because you were too weak or too blind to see the danger coming.”
Her expression faltered, the defiance cracking just enough to reveal the vulnerability beneath. “What are you talking about?”
I took a sip of the whiskey, letting the burn ground me. “My sister,” I mumbled. “She was…taken. Because of me. Because I trusted the wrong person.”
The words hung heavy in the air, and for once, my little bunny didn’t push. She just watched, her brow furrowed as if she was trying to piece together the puzzle of who I was.
“Did you get her back?” she asked after a long pause.
I shook my head, the memory searing through me like a brand. “No. By the time I found her, it was too late. She was…gone.”
Nina’s gaze softened, and for a moment, the tension between us shifted into something quieter. Something almost tender.
“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
The sincerity in her tone caught me off guard. I’d expected mockery or indifference, but not this. Not the understanding that shone in her eyes. My chest throbbed with an unfamiliar feeling. I downed the rest of my drink, setting the glass on the bar with a sharp clink.
