“You’re rather presumptuous about what may happen in this room,” he says, voice dropping lower.
I shrug, maintaining eye contact. “I prefer to consider all possibilities. Preparation is everything.”
“And yet you’ve revealed quite a bit about your own... preferences.” Dominic runs the silk between his fingers, a subtle demonstration of control that doesn’t go unnoticed.
I smile. “Information freely given isn’t a vulnerability. It’s a negotiation tactic.”
He steps closer. “Always the lawyer.”
“Always.” I don’t back away. The proximity tests us both.
The sound of our earpieces crackling makes us both stop. Ryder’s voice comes through, slightly breathless.
“I’ve made contact. She’s hesitant but responsive. ETA seven minutes.”
Dominic presses a finger against his ear. “Status?”
“Frightened but trusting. She believes I’m helping her escape you two monsters.” Ryder’s laugh is low. “Playing the savior is deliciously effective.”
“Don’t rush it,” I advise. “The betrayal hits harder when she fully believes she’s safe.”
“Trust me, counselor. I know what I’m doing.”
The connection clicks off. Dominic turns his back to me, resuming his preparations. He arranges the ties on the bed, spacing them precisely at each corner.
I watch him work, appreciating the fluidity of his motions. There’s an unexpected grace to this man who projects such unyielding strength. The contradiction is intriguing.
The tension between us isn’t just about the Hunt anymore. Each glance holds a question, each movement an unspoken challenge. We circle each other like predators sharing territory—cautious, calculating, curious.
Soon Ryder will deliver Cora to us, the perfect vessel for our collective vengeance. But something else has been set in motion here. I feel it in the way Dominic’s eyes linger when he thinks I’m not looking. In the deliberate way that our hands avoid touching as we prepare the room.
Two alpha personalities, neither willing to yield, both secretly wondering what it would be like if one did. And whenRyder joins us, bringing not just Cora but his own energy to this equation, the possibilities become even more... compelling.
9
CORA
Irun blindly through the dark corridors, my breath coming in desperate gasps. The sound of my heartbeat thunders in my ears, drowning out everything but the terrible realization hitting me with each frantic step.
Mira was right. God, why didn’t I listen?
“It’s dangerous,” she’d warned. “These games aren’t what they seem.”
But I’d been so desperate to escape, to feel something real outside my father’s suffocating control. And now three men are hunting me—not for the thrill of the chase, but for revenge against my father.
A cramp shoots up the side of my thigh, making me stumble, barely catching myself against the cold wall. Pain shoots through my palm as I scrape it raw. I bite back a sob, knowing sound will only betray my position.
They know who I am. They know about the bruises. How? I’ve hidden them so carefully, plastered on smiles through stinging pain, applied concealer with practiced hands. No one knows.
I take a sharp left, then right, moving deeper into the labyrinth. These men—Dominic, Liam, Ryder—they’ve beenhurt by my father’s policies. I understand wanting revenge against William Pike. How many nights have I lain awake imagining my own? But I’m not him. I’m not responsible for his crimes.
“I’m not my father,” I whisper to the darkness, voice breaking.
The way Dominic touched me... my body’s betrayal still burns with shame. I can still feel his fingers against my skin, still see the cruel satisfaction in his eyes when I couldn’t control my response.
I need to find Mira. She must be somewhere in this maze. Together, we might find a way out of this nightmare.
Another turn, another identical corridor. My lungs burn as I force myself to keep moving. Somewhere in this place is my friend, the only person I trust. If I can just find her before they find me...
