My hand is still between my legs, evidence of my betrayal wet against my fingers. Hunter’s face on my screen shows a satisfied smirk that makes my stomach turn.
“Never text me again,” I stammer, voice trembling with shock at what I’ve just done. “Never call me again. This was a mistake. A horrible mistake.”
Before he can respond, I end the call with shaking fingers and throw my phone onto my desk like it’s burned me.
“What have I done?” I whisper to the empty office, tears springing to my eyes.
I look down at my rumpled skirt, the wet patch on my chair. Shame floods through me, hot and suffocating. I just got myself off on camera for my sister’s fiancé. In my office. In the middle of a workday.
I grab tissues from my desk drawer, frantically wiping between my legs, cleaning the chair, trying to erase the evidence of my weakness. But no amount of cleaning can wash away what I’ve done to Olivia.
My phone buzzes against my desk. I know who it is before I even look.
Hunter:You can try to run from this, Aurora. You can pretend it didn’t happen. You can block my number. But there’s nowhere on this earth you could go to escape me.
I stare at the message, a cold shiver running down my spine. It should read as a threat. Instead, some twisted part of me thrills at his words.
And that terrifies me more than anything.
9
HUNTER
My reflection stares back at me in the tinted window of the Bentley as we glide through downtown traffic. There’s something different in my eyes now. A hunger I’ve never experienced before.
Aurora Harrison. The image of her coming undone on my screen replays in my mind—lips parted, that perfect moment when she surrendered completely. Mine. The word echoes inside my skull with each heartbeat.
I adjust myself in the leather seat, still hard at just the memory. This isn’t like the usual conquests, the faceless women who warm my bed then disappear before morning. This is something else entirely.
“Sir, we’ll arrive at the meeting in approximately eight minutes,” my driver announces through the intercom.
I don’t respond. My mind is elsewhere. In her office, watching her fingers work between her thighs while I commanded her pleasure from across the street. The power of it was intoxicating.
I pull out my phone, scroll through our messages, and pause at the image I sent her. Calculated risk. I knew she wouldn’t be able to resist.
Her final message attempts defiance as if she could cut me out now, after what we’ve shared. Impossible.
“I’ll break you,” I whisper to her image on my screen. “Every resistance, every hesitation, every thought of your sister. I’ll burn it all away until there’s nothing left but your need for me.”
This isn’t just desire. It’s ownership. Possession. I’ve built empires, destroyed competitors, amassed more wealth than most countries, but nothing has ever felt like this obsessive need to claim every part of her.
The engagement to Olivia is a temporary inconvenience. A business arrangement that can be dissolved easily when the time comes. Aurora is different. The challenge of taking what isn’t freely given, of conquering that fire in her eyes, consumes me.
Breaking my engagement with Olivia will require finesse. The Harrison contracts are too valuable to jeopardize with a messy split. I need to create distance first and arrange for Olivia to discover compromising photos. A woman in my bed, carefully selected not to resemble Aurora. The tabloids would eat it alive, and Olivia’s pride would force her to end things publicly.
I check my watch. Three days. That’s all I need to implement this plan and be free to claim what’s mine.
“Sir, we’ve arrived,” Daniels announces, pulling the Bentley to a stop outside the abandoned warehouse that serves as our Selection headquarters.
I exit without acknowledging him. The building’s exterior is crumbling brick and rusted metal, which belies what lies within. Inside, fifteen candidates stand in a neat row, backs straight, eyes forward. Each one vetted thoroughly, their backgrounds dissected, their weaknesses cataloged.
Ari, Penn, Blaine, and Grayson await me on a raised platform. I take my position at the center, surveying the nervous faces below.
“Congratulations on reaching this stage,” I begin, voice carrying easily through the cavernous space. “Currently, you believe this is an opportunity. By tomorrow, half of you will understand it’s a nightmare.”
I pace slowly before them, studying each face. “Five of you will become Vipers. The rest will suffer consequences for wasting our time.”
A young man in the front row swallows visibly. I stop directly in front of him.
