Page 3 of Hunted to the Altar
Like an itch beneath my skin I couldn’t rid myself of.
Watching Nina wasn’t just a duty—it was a compulsion. A gnawing necessity that tightened its grip every time she crossed my mind. It chewed through my appetite, stole my sleep, and made her face appear in every shadow. Even when I blinked, shewas there—etched behind my eyelids like a brand I couldn’t scrub clean.
She didn’t even know how her existence anchored mine. The tremor in her voice, the faint smile she gave strangers, the way she flinched at shadows she thought no one noticed—each detail carved into my mind with surgical precision.
Breakable. I adjusted my slacks with an internal groan. I shouldn’t be so fixated on this woman. Running with Silas and Don Caputo molded me. It’s changed me. That was why I found solace in Nina. She may seem broken, but she wasn’t.
Just like Eden wasn’t and that turned me on. She was cracked, and I wanted to be the one to break her completely—and then be the only one allowed to put her back together again.
Much different fromThe Stableswhere we’d found her. Once she disappeared, I tracked her movements. She was never with an owner long enough for us to infiltrate and rescue her. Coast to Coast, different cities and countries, they used her.
A product was all she was, hopped up onBubbli, a drug on the streets that low lifes used to basically keep someone compliant while they were being tortured or raped. Hell, it had ecstasy in it, and enough of that made the victims believe they wanted it. Nina had worked through those withdrawals all on her own after I pulled her out ofThe Stables.
My obsession wasn’t something I cared to justify. It simply was. I’d watched her for weeks, mapping her routines, habits, and rare moments of peace. Dr. Mya’s best friend. One who threw her away at the first site of dick.
I stopped that train of thought.
That wasn’t fair, it wasn’t Dr. Mya’s fault Don Sebastian kidnapped her. But the way she’d forgotten about Nina hit me the wrong way.
Nina wasn’t like other women in our world. She’d survived something, but didn’t let it break her. She didn’t just accept herfate. She dragged her broken pieces behind her like a shattered mirror reflecting a world that hadn’t been kind.
I was drawn to those jagged edges because they mirrored mine.
The hacked camera gave me a clear view of her in the kitchen. She wore an oversized sweater, one shoulder exposed, soft skin begging to be bitten. Her curls bounced as she moved, pulling something from the fridge with a practiced grace. She moved like someone used to disappearing into the background.
Nina was striking in a way that made her unforgettable—my little bunny.
Her skin was a deep, warm brown. Rich and luminous under the soft light of her kitchen. It contrasted beautifully with the wild, dark curls that framed her face, each strand coiling with an untamed energy that mirrored the fire I imagined she kept buried inside. Her features were sharp yet soft in the same breath—high cheekbones, full lips that seemed permanently poised between defiance and vulnerability, and large, expressive eyes that seemed to hold the weight of her past while still daring anyone to challenge her.
A delicate tattoo rested just above her collarbone, a small designed butterfly that seemed both intentional and personal, like a secret she carried just beneath the surface. Something she hadn’t had before. She carried herself with a quiet strength, even in the solitude of her kitchen. But it was the contrast that drew me in—the way her exterior radiated resilience while her movements betrayed her guarded nature.
Nina was a job—a task assigned by Don Sebastian Caputo.“Find her and silence her,”he’d said. “Before she says something she shouldn’t.”That was a while ago, and I haven’t stopped watching her since.
It had been a nightmare unraveling the truth. Months earlier, I’d been tasked with escorting her out of a Sicilian-controlled zone after she’d stumbled into their crosshairs searching for Dr. Mya.
She doesn’t even remember it. And that should have been the end. I’d thought she’d gone to ground. I’d moved on, focused on other priorities, but she was never far from my thoughts.
Don Sebastian fueled this obsession with gasoline, forcing that itch right back under my skin.
The room was dimly lit, and the heavy scent of cigars lingered in the air. Don Sebastian sat behind his desk, his piercing gaze locked on me. He didn’t need to speak to convey his disappointment, but of course, he did anyway.
“Do you even realize the mess you’ve made?” His voice was calm, but the underlying threat was unmistakable.
I stood rigid, my hands clasped behind my back. “Don Caputo, I wasn’t given full details. If I’d known?—”
“If you’d known,” he interrupted, his tone ice cold, “I wouldn’t be cleaning up after you. Nina Torres wasn’t just some nobody. She had connections. Resources. And you left her unattended, now there’s more press around this.”
“She was taken,” I said through gritted teeth, the shame of it burning in my chest. “I underestimated how far the Sicilian Mafia would go to use her as leverage.”
Sebastian’s jaw ticked, a sign that I was skating on thin ice. “And now she’s out there, Samuel. Free to say whatever she wants, to whoever she wants. Do you know what she’s capable of if she gets desperate?”
“I didn’t realize she had access to Dr. Mya,” I admitted, my voice quieter now. “Or that she’d try to report?—”
“Enough.” Don Sebastian’s hand came down on the desk with a sharp crack. “You’ve said enough. Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to find her. You’re going to fix this. And you’re going to make sure Mya never learns what we’ve done. Do I make myself clear?”
I nodded, my throat tight. “Yes, Don Caputo.”
His gaze bore into me, unrelenting. “You had better. Because if you fail again, Samuel, it won’t be Nina we’re hunting.”
