Page 44 of Hunted to the Altar
I looked away, focusing on the intricate pattern of the tablecloth. I needed to get through this breakfast without snapping, without letting him see the turmoil raging inside me. But as the silence stretched on, my thoughts spiraled. Last night had been a mistake, a moment of weakness that I couldn’t afford. And now, I was bound to him in every way that mattered.
I tried to eat, forcing a piece of toast past the lump in my throat. Samuel’s gaze never wavered, his eyes following my every move. It was suffocating, the weight of his attention pressing down on me like a physical force. I wanted to scream at him, to demand why he had to ruin everything. But I didn’t. Because deep down, I already knew the answer.
He didn’t ruin things. He just took what he wanted. And now, he had taken me.
The evening came fasterthan I expected, and with it, the mafia event Samuel had insisted I attend. It was being held at one of the Caputo properties, an opulent mansion surrounded by manicured gardens and guarded by men in dark suits. The place where power was flaunted and deals were made behind closed doors.
I felt like an imposter as I stepped out of the car, my heels clicking against the stone driveway. The dress Samuel had chosen for me clung to my body like a second skin, the deepemerald green bringing out the golden undertones of my dark skin. A necklace with a single diamond rested against my collarbone, a reminder of who owned me now.
Samuel’s hand settled on the small of my back as he guided me inside, his touch possessive but not harsh. “Smile,” he murmured near my ear. “You’re Mrs. Caputo now. Time to play the part.”
I forced a smile, though it felt like a lie. The room was filled with men and women who exuded wealth and danger, their conversations low and measured. The air was thick with unspoken alliances and simmering rivalries.
Samuel moved through the crowd with ease, shaking hands and exchanging pleasantries like he owned the place—which, technically, he did. I stayed close, my pulse quickening every time someone’s gaze lingered on me for too long. I hated how exposed I felt, how out of place.
“You’re doing well,” Samuel said quietly as we stopped near the bar. He handed me a glass of champagne, his fingers brushing against mine. “Almost like you belong here.”
I took a sip, letting the bubbles fizzle against my tongue. “I don’t belong here. And I never will.”
He leaned closer, his lips curving into that infuriating smirk. “Oh, but you do. You just don’t realize it yet.”
I didn’t respond, my gaze drifting over the room. If I was going to survive this, I needed to be smart. I needed to play my role while figuring out how to undermine him. And tonight, surrounded by his world, I saw an opportunity.
The evening wore on, the hum of conversation and clinking glasses filling the air. I observed Samuel, noting the way he commanded attention, the way people deferred to him. But I also noticed the cracks in his armor—the fleeting moments of tension in his jaw, the way his eyes darted toward the exits when he thought no one was looking.
When he excused himself to speak with one of his men, Idipped. I moved through the crowd, weaving between conversations until I reached the center of the room. People turned to look at me, their gazes curious, some amused. I ignored them, letting my presence speak for itself.
Samuel’s voice cut through the room as he returned, his tone sharp. “What are you doing, Nina?”
I turned to him, my smile sweet but my eyes challenging. “Playing my role, of course. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
His jaw tightened, and for a moment, I thought he might drag me out of the room. But he stepped closer, his hand wrapping around my arm in a grip that was firm but not painful.
“You’re testing me,” he said, his voice low enough that only I could hear.
I tilted my head, feigning innocence. “Am I?”
The tension between us crackled, electric and undeniable. I could feel the heat of his body, the barely restrained fury simmering beneath his calm exterior. But I didn’t back down. If he wanted a fight, I’d give him one.
“Careful, Nina,” he warned, his lips brushing against my ear. “You don’t want to see what happens when I’m pushed too far.”
I met his gaze, my pulse racing. “Maybe I do.”
His dark eyes narrowed, and a thrill went down my spine. I spun on my heel and took off. My heart was racing as I ran through a door, it opened leading me straight into the bedroom I wanted to be in. Clearly, I wanted to get caught. It was wrong and dirty, but I wanted him to push me to the ground and force me to take his cock.
Just like before.
A grin spread across my mouth just slightly when the door swung open and hit the wall behind me. I was facing the bed with my arms behind my back.
“You’ve been a very bad bunny,” he growled.
I shivered, but not in fear.
Samuel was unlike any man I’d ever encountered. I made some innocuous noise in my throat and went to move when his hand wrapped around my throat. He dragged me flush against his body and groaned in my ear.
“Don’t move.”
My pussy was wet. I should hate this man, but the way he played my body was like a demon. I couldn’t get enough. I wanted a repeat. I deserved another orgasm, and I was going to get it.
