Oliver’s laugh was soft, cultivated, and absolutely terrifying.
“Oh no, gentlemen. Our prey is always far more interesting than that.” His pale eyes swept the room, landing on me with the weight of a physical blow. “This year’s prey is the lovely Mia.”
Chapter 17
Coop
“This year’s prey is the lovely Mia.”
Oliver’s words hit like a sledgehammer to the chest. Everything slowed—the excited murmur of the crowd, the shift of bodies pressing closer to the stage, Oliver’s colorless eyes tracking over Mia with predatory satisfaction. My mind couldn’t process what I’d just heard. Wouldn’t process it.
Prey.
They wanted to hunt her. Hunt Mia like an animal through the Montana wilderness.
My body moved before conscious thought kicked in. I pulled her behind me, muscle memory from a hundred combat situations taking over. Put myself between her and the threat. As if my body could shield her from more than a dozen armed men. As if standing in front of her would change what Oliver had just announced to a room full of sick fucks who were practically salivating at the prospect.
The burgundy silk rustled as she pressed against my back. Her trembling traveled through the dress and into my spine, fine vibrations that told me she was barely holding it together. Her fingers clutched at my suit jacket, twisting the expensive fabric hard enough that it would probably never lie flat again.
“No.” The word came out low, dangerous. I pushed through the crowd, pulling Mia with me, heading straight for Oliver. “There’s no fucking way.”
Oliver watched me approach with that cultured smile, like he’d been expecting this reaction. Hell, he’d probably been counting on it. Entertainment within entertainment.
“This isn’t happening.” I stopped directly in front of the stage, close enough that I had to look up at him. Seven feet between us, him elevated three feet on the platform—positioning designed to establish dominance. I didn’t give a shit. “We’re leaving. Right now.”
“I don’t think so.” Oliver’s voice carried that reasonable tone that made my hands itch for my Glock. Behind him, Bishop’s hand moved to his sidearm—subtle but clear.
Metal whispered against fabric. Snake had drawn his SIG Sauer, not quite pointing it at me but making the threat crystal clear. The weapon held low, finger indexed along the frame—professional ready position.
To my left, Diesel’s scarred face split into an eager grin as he pulled his own gun. Even Tommy, that worthless piece of shit, had his hand on his Beretta, trying to look dangerous instead of like a kid playing soldier.
“The hunt will proceed as planned.” Oliver stepped to the edge of the stage, looking down at me with clinical interest. “Mia will serve as this year’s prey. That decision is final.”
“I said no.”
“And I’m saying your opinion doesn’t matter.” His focus shifted past me to where Mia stood. “The only choice you havenow, Coop, is whether you participate in the hunt or whether we lock you in the lodge while the others enjoy themselves.”
The wordenjoymade bile rise in my throat. I knew exactly what these men would do if they caught her. Behind me, I heard Mia’s sharp intake of breath—she understood too.
I cataloged exits, weapons, defensive positions. Even if I could get to my Glock, even if I dropped three or four of them before they killed me, there were too many. Too many guns, too many angles, nowhere to run. The compound was surrounded by miles of unfamiliar wilderness. And nobody was coming to help.
There was no way out except through.Fuck.
“Perhaps an explanation of the rules would help.” Oliver’s voice carried to the entire room, though his focus never left my face. “For those unfamiliar with our tradition.”
He turned to address the crowd, but Bishop and Snake kept their weapons ready, their attention locked on me. Snake had shifted two steps left—covering my nondominant side. Bishop maintained his position at Oliver’s six. Professional positioning. These weren’t amateurs.
“The rules are elegantly simple.” Oliver’s voice took on a professor’s tone. “The prey retains her current attire—in this case, that lovely burgundy dress. To make things sporting, she receives a one-hour head start. She may run as far and fast as she wishes, or hide wherever she chooses.”
Volkov stepped forward from the crowd, his sharp features showing the first real emotion I’d seen from him—hunger. “How large is the hunting ground?”
“The entire mountain. Forty thousand acres of wilderness.” Oliver’s smile widened. “Though, historically, prey rarely makes it past the first valley.”
One of the Japanese buyers—the older one with yakuza tattoos barely visible at his collar—nodded approvingly. “And the boundaries?”
“Natural terrain provides them. Cliffs to the west, river gorge to the north. East and south are open.”
They were discussing it like a business transaction. Logistics and parameters while Mia stood behind me, shaking.
