Adriana's POV
I stood in the bathroom, towel clutched to my chest, heart still thundering from what had just happened. My skin buzzed where he'd touched me not just his hand, but his voice. The way he said I was his…
It shouldn't have made my stomach flutter. It shouldn't have left me staring at the wall like some lovesick idiot.
I didn't want to like him.
But I couldn't lie to myself anymore not completely.
There was something about Hunter Rivers that made it impossible to think straight. He was danger dressed in leather and silence. He confused me. One minute he was cold, the next… possessive. And not the kind of possessive that felt cruel the kind that made my chest ache in ways I didn't understand.
I stepped into the shower, turning the water hot enough to sting, scrubbing hard like I could wash the memory of his voice off me.
But no matter how hot the water ran, I couldn't shake him.
By the time I came out, wrapped in a towel, he was gone. Good. I needed space.
But of course, space wasn't something Hunter believed in.
Less than thirty minutes later, he showed up, dressed in all black, sleeves rolled to his elbows, veins lining his forearms, jaw sharp enough to cut through glass.
He didn't knock. Just walked in.
"We're going out," he said.
I raised an eyebrow. "Where?"
He didn't answer. Of course.
I didn't bother asking again. I slipped into the black jeans and top I found in the closet, still with tags. New. Like everything else he gave me. I wasn't sure what disturbed me more: how easily he controlled everything… or how part of me liked that he did.
The drive was quiet. Just the sound of the engine and the thoughts screaming in my head.
Why was I nervous?
Why was I wearing lip gloss?
And why did I care how I looked next to him?
We pulled up to a warehouse, massive, cold, guarded. But inside, it wasn't some rundown dump. It was high-end. Organized. Controlled. Men with weapons, screens tracking routes, crates being moved like chess pieces. This wasn't a gang.
This was a machine.
Deal Dynasty.
And Hunter?
He wasn't just part of it. He was it.
Everyone turned when he entered. Respect followed him like a shadow. And then… their eyes shifted to me.
A tall guy with a cocky grin and too many chains around his neck spoke first. "Hunter finally brought her," he said, like I was some myth they weren't sure existed.
"Zane," Hunter said. "Adriana."
Zane looked me over, slow and deliberate. "Damn. You're real."
A low, annoyed breath escaped Hunter's nose. "Watch it."
Then came another guy — shorter, bulkier, scar across his brow. "Luke. What's up," he said with a polite nod.
And then… him.
The man who didn't smile. Didn't speak more than necessary.
"Marcus," he said simply.
I could tell he didn't like me. Or maybe he didn't trust me.
Honestly? I didn't trust me either.
Then I saw her.
The woman who walked like she owned the air. Long black hair. Blood-red lips. Leather pants that looked painted on. Her heels clicked like a threat.
She didn't look at me first.
She looked at him.
"Didn't know you were bringing company," she said, standing too close eyes full of something sharp and familiar.
"Rayna," Hunter said. "This is Adriana."
Her gaze finally met mine. She smiled. Cold. Beautiful. Deadly. "So this is her."
My stomach twisted.
I didn't know why.
I didn't even like Hunter… right?
Except I did. A little. Maybe more than a little. And seeing her brush his arm like she belonged to him made something bitter rise in my chest.
Was I… jealous?
No. No, I couldn't be. That would be stupid. I barely knew him. I hated how he made decisions for me. I hated being trapped here.
And yet…
I hated her more.
She leaned in, whispered something to him. He didn't move. Didn't flinch. Didn't stop her.
And I didn't want to admit that it hurt.
The others ushered us into a glass-walled room, clean, modern, high-tech. Hunter took his seat at the head of the table. I followed silently, heart pounding.
Everyone else filed in.
Then came Rayna, taking the seat directly across from me, legs crossed, gaze locked on mine.
"So," she said with a too-sweet smile. "This is the girl."
I forced a polite smile. "The girl has a name."
Zane let out a low whistle. "Oof. She got bite."
Rayna's smile didn't falter. "I see why you like her."
I looked at Hunter. Waiting. Hoping he'd deny it.
Say he didn't like me.
But he didn't say anything.
Why did that sting?
The meeting began weapons, shipments, deals. I barely heard any of it. My mind was stuck on her hand on his arm. Her eyes. That smug look like she knew she had a place in his life.
And me?
I didn't even know if I was temporary.
By the time the meeting ended, my throat was dry and my hands were clenched under the table. I followed Hunter outside, silent, swallowing everything I wanted to scream.
He opened the car door.
I got in. So did he.
"Is she your ex?" I asked finally, trying to sound casual and failing miserably.
He didn't look at me. "Does it matter?"
"It does to me."
He was quiet for a beat. "She was never serious."
But the way she looked at him said otherwise.
I didn't say anything else. I turned my head to the window and blinked fast, like that would push down the ache in my chest.
Why was I hurt?
Why did I care?
I didn't understand any of this. Not him. Not her. Not myself.
All I knew was that something inside me was starting to unravel.
And I didn't know how to stop it.
We didn't speak much as we drove back. The car's hum was the only noise between us, but the silence wasn't peaceful. Not for me.
I kept replaying everything: Rayna's touch, the way she spoke to Hunter, how she looked at him. And the way he didn't stop her.
It was stupid. I barely knew him. I shouldn't care. But the gnawing feeling wouldn't leave me.
When we got back to the house, I didn't even wait for him to open the door. I climbed out quickly, avoiding his eyes as he followed me inside.
"I don't need you to fix things for me," I said, the words slipping out before I could stop them.
I wasn't sure what I meant exactly, but the frustration was there. It had to go somewhere.
Hunter stopped, a little surprised. But it was gone in a moment, his usual unreadable expression settling back into place.
"I'm not trying to fix anything," he said, voice calm but edged with something that felt like warning.
I opened my mouth to respond, but I didn't. Instead, I just turned away and walked toward the stairs, the weight of the day dragging me down.
I heard his footsteps behind me, but he didn't say anything else. Not that I wanted him to.
I just needed space.
And when I reached our room, the silence of it felt like a relief. I closed the door behind me, leaning against it for a moment, trying to breathe.
I hated the way he made me feel like I was losing control of myself. But more than that, I hated how much I was starting to crave it.
I took a deep breath, my fingers still gripping the doorknob as if it might anchor me to something steady. The weight of the day pressed on me, and the feeling of being trapped in this place, in this situation, gnawed at the edges of my mind.
I was supposed to be angry, right? Furious even. I had every reason to be. Hunter's silence, the way he handled Rayna… it should have made me want to leave, scream, fight. But I didn't. Instead, I just stood there, feeling like I was losing myself in this chaos he'd created.
The sound of the door opening pulled me from my spiraling thoughts. I turned slowly, finding Hunter standing in the doorway. His presence, as always, filled the room completely demanding, magnetic. He didn't need to say anything. I could already feel the intensity of his gaze on me, as if he could see through all my defenses.
"You look like you need to talk," he said, his voice low, almost a challenge.
I couldn't meet his eyes. I couldn't. Every time I did, I felt that flutter in my chest, the tightening in my throat.
I wanted to say something sharp, something to push him away, but the words didn't come. I wasn't sure if I wanted him gone, or if I needed him closer.
"I don't need anything from you," I muttered, though it sounded weaker than I intended.
His eyes narrowed, stepping further into the room. "You think I don't know that?"
He was close now too close. But I didn't step back. Not this time. I stood my ground, even though my heart was pounding like it might explode.
Hunter's gaze softened, and for a brief moment, I saw something other than that hard, controlling man I'd grown used to. It was fleeting, a crack in his armor, and I hated how it made me feel. Like I wanted to understand him, to figure him out.
Before I could stop myself, I took a step toward him. "You never answered me. What is she to you?"
His jaw tightened, but he didn't answer immediately. The silence between us stretched, thick and heavy, until he finally spoke, voice raw.
"She's nothing."
I looked at him, searching for any sign of insincerity. "Then why did you let her touch you like that?"
He didn't flinch at my question. He didn't look away. "I don't control what others do, Adriana. But I control what happens between us."
The way he said it, like it was a promise, made me feel something deep in my gut. I wanted to fight it, to reject it, but the truth was, I didn't know if I could.
"Between us," I repeated, stepping closer. "What exactly does that mean?"
Hunter reached for me then, his fingers brushing my arm. It was soft, tentative. For a moment, I thought he might pull away, but he didn't. Instead, he closed the distance between us, his hand resting against my waist.
"I'm not going anywhere," he whispered, his voice barely audible.
I looked up at him, not trusting the flutter in my chest or the sudden warmth spreading through me. "You should," I said, my voice shaky.
He didn't move. His eyes held mine, intense and unwavering. "And leave you here, alone? Not a chance."
For the first time, I didn't feel trapped by his words. I felt… something else. Something that, if I allowed myself to explore, could change everything between us.
And maybe that was what scared me the most.
I opened my mouth to argue, to push him away, but I couldn't. The tension between us was too thick, and I could feel myself inching closer to something I wasn't sure I was ready for.
"Hunter," I said, my voice low, almost pleading.
He didn't answer. Instead, he pulled me into him, wrapping his arms around me in a move that felt both protective and possessive. I tensed for a moment, but it didn't take long before I softened against him.
"I'm not going to hurt you," he murmured into my hair.
I didn't know if I believed him or not. But in that moment, I wasn't sure it mattered.
After a while, his voice broke the quiet. "You hungry? I can have the maids bring something up."
I shook my head against his chest. "I'm okay. Just tired."
He nodded, and for the first time that night, everything felt still. Not perfect, not safe… but still. Like the storm had finally passed, if only for a while.
We got into bed without another word. No touches. No tension. Just quiet.
And somehow, I slept.
The bed was cold beside me when I woke.
I heard the creak of the floorboards. The low, tense whisper of his voice.
"I told you not to call me this late."
A pause.
"She's here."
Another pause.
The second I heard his voice, I froze.
"Yeah. She doesn't know yet."
A sigh.
"I'll handle it before the end of the week."
My heart dropped.
I rolled over before he came back into the room, shut my eyes, and forced my body to go still.
The bed dipped. His arm slid around my waist.
I didn't breathe.
And I didn't sleep—not really.