I remain motionless in the shadows, watching as she slips back inside the house. The door closes behind her with a soft click that carries across the silent garden.
I smile to myself. Her words mean nothing. Her resistance only sharpens my resolve.
No one runs from me.
12
HUNTER
Istudy the monitor displaying the trembling man in my basement. Sweat gleams on his forehead as he stares at the box I’ve placed before him. Nine candidates left. Six eliminated. The weak ones break early.
“Please,” he whispers, voice cracking. “I can’t do this.”
I press the intercom button. “You have two minutes to open the box, Mr. Sullivan.” My voice echoes through the soundproofed room. Clinical. Detached. “Or you’re eliminated.”
Penn stands beside me, analyzing Sullivan’s micro-expressions. “He’ll fold.”
“Agreed.” I check my watch. “Disappointing.”
The candidate’s hands shake as he reaches for the box, then withdraws. His eyes dart to the camera, desperate for mercy. He won’t find any here. The Vipers don’t accept weakness.
I lean closer to the microphone. “Ninety seconds.”
“What’s in it?” Sullivan’s voice breaks. “Just tell me what’s inside.”
I smile. “The box contains your future. Or the end of it.”
On the adjacent screens, I monitor the other tests. Ari’s social manipulation challenge has already eliminated three candidates who couldn’t maintain their cover stories under pressure. Blainebroke two more during the physical endurance test. Grayson’s criminal operation simulation exposed another who balked at crossing certain lines.
Sullivan finally lifts the lid with trembling fingers.
His scream is satisfying. Pure terror. The kind that strips men bare.
“Please!” He scrambles backward. “Get it away from me!”
I check his file again. Severe arachnophobia. Noted during the preliminary psychological assessment.
“Remove it from the box before the timer ends, Mr. Sullivan.”
“I can’t! Please!”
“Then you’re not Viper material.” I press the button that releases the door. “Exits open. You’re dismissed.”
He bolts, leaving the box behind.
Penn marks something on his tablet. “Eight left.”
I nod, already reviewing the next candidate’s file. “Bring in Hansen. His fear is different. More... interesting.”
“You’re enjoying this.” Penn’s observation isn’t a question.
I don’t deny it. Breaking people reveals their core, showing what they’re truly made of. Most are disappointingly fragile.
“We will send the remaining seven to my estate out of town tomorrow night if the next one passes. Final phase. I want to see which ones survive the breaking point. I am not confident that we will have five candidates standing in the end.”
Penn watches Sullivan flee down the hall, then turns to me with that irritating smirk. “Seven candidates, five spots. Not great odds.” He leans against the control panel, deliberately casual. “Speaking of odds stacked against you—gotten over that Harrison girl yet? Or have you finally accepted your fate as Olivia’s dutiful husband?”
I fix him with a cold stare. “When have I ever accepted anything less than exactly what I want?”
