Adriana's POV
I finished the last file, my fingers aching from flipping through papers and typing out details I didn't care about. The room was too quiet, too still. Time stretched endlessly between me and whatever punishment he had planned.
A sudden knock on the door made me jump.
Hunter didn't step inside when the door creaked open—his voice alone carried the weight of command.
"Downstairs. Now."
I rose slowly, every movement tense. The house felt colder as I followed him. He didn't speak as we walked, just led the way to the living room and stopped by a side table near the wall.
There, resting on the polished surface, was my phone.
He picked it up and turned it in his hand once.
Then his eyes locked onto mine.
"You don't need this anymore."
My brows furrowed. "What?"
"You don't get to keep secrets from me," he said flatly. "You don't get to spy. Or eavesdrop. Or question what I allow and what I don't."
My heart kicked. "I didn't—"
"You did," he interrupted sharply. "And now you live with the consequence."
He dropped the phone into the drawer and locked it.
I stood frozen.
"You'll use the landline if you need anything," he added. "No outside calls without my permission. No contact with your father. No one."
My lips parted in disbelief. "You're taking away my only way to contact the outside world?"
His eyes narrowed. "You don't have the outside world right now. You have me. And rules."
"You said this wasn't a prison."
"It's not," he said. "It's a debt. Until it's paid, you live by my rules. All of them."
I wanted to scream. To slap him. To run.
But instead, I stood still. Because somewhere deep down, I knew fighting him would only make it worse.
"This is your punishment?" I asked, voice tight.
Hunter's gaze didn't waver. "No. That was just the beginning."
He stepped closer, closing the distance between us until his body towered over mine.
"You want to know what happens when you cross the line?" he murmured. "Keep watching."
Then, as if on impulse, he lowered his voice.
"Tomorrow, I'm going on a job. A gang operation."
I blinked. "What kind of job?"
Hunter's eyes darkened. "We're going to take care of some business, get back what's ours. Make sure no one forgets who's in charge."
I swallowed hard. The word operation made it sound like something dangerous.
He saw the fear flicker across my face.
"This isn't a movie," he said, his tone flat. "We get things done whether it takes force or strategy. Don't expect details. I'll be gone most of the day."
I nodded slowly, heart pounding.
Hunter reached out and brushed a stray hair from my face. His fingers lingered longer than expected.
"I don't want you worrying," he said softly, voice almost tender. "But you need to understand what this life is. It's not easy. And you're part of it now."
My breath hitched.
He stepped back and turned toward the door.
"I'm not going to lock you up," he said over his shoulder. "But the rules? They're not optional. Not if you want to stay."
I swallowed, torn between anger and something else I didn't want to name.
As the door closed behind him with a final click, I stood there, angry, breathless, and shaken.
And somehow, beneath it all… craving more.
I sank onto the couch, my fingers curling into the fabric of the cushion. The silence felt heavier now, filled with all the things Hunter hadn't said and the ones I couldn't stop thinking about.
The landline phone on the side table mocked me, cold and lifeless without permission to use it. My mind raced with questions I didn't dare ask.
What exactly was this operation?
Would Hunter come back?
And if he did… what would he be like?
I glanced at the locked drawer, where my phone disappeared from sight. The small, sharp sting of loss wasn't just about the device it was about control. About freedom slipping through my fingers, inch by inch.
A part of me wanted to rebel. To scream that I wasn't his possession.
But another part… the part that shivered when he touched me, the part that craved his fierce attention… that part stayed silent.
I rubbed my wrists where his grip had lingered.
The sky outside had already dimmed, shadows stretching long and dark across the walls. The silence in the room was thick, broken only by the steady sound of running water. Tomorrow loomed like a threat I couldn't name.
I didn't know what it would bring.
But I knew one thing for sure—
Nothing was ever going to be the same again.
My thoughts were cut short by the sound of the shower. The bathroom light was on. I stood up, unable to resist the pull, and walked toward the bathroom. The glass door was fogged at the edges, but not enough.
I should've looked away.
But I didn't.
Hunter stood under the spray, his back to me, steam curling around his body. Water trailed down his inked skin, highlighting every line, every shadow. The curve of his spine led to narrow hips, and when he shifted, I saw more than I should have.
Heat shot through me.
I knew I should move should respect his privacy but something primal held me in place. My breath caught. My pulse roared.
Then, as if sensing me, his head turned slightly.
Our eyes locked—through glass, through steam, through tension so thick I could taste it.
I stumbled back, my cheeks blazing, heart pounding.
By the time he stepped out, a towel slung low around his hips, I was rigid on the bed, pretending to read a random page from a magazine I hadn't even opened.
He passed me, calm and quiet, the scent of soap and heat trailing behind him like sin.
"You like what you saw?" he asked, voice low.
I froze.
He didn't tease. He didn't smirk.
Just kept walking. Like it didn't mean anything.
But we both knew it did.
Then, the landline rang.
I jumped and grabbed it like it could save me from the fire in my chest.
"Hello?" My voice cracked.
"Adriana?" My mother's voice.
Relief slammed into me. "Mom—oh my God."
"We've been trying to get in touch with you," she said. "Are you okay?"
"No. Yes. I don't know." My voice wavered.
There was rustling, and then came Dad's voice. "You have to be strong, Adriana. This is temporary. Just until the deal is done."
"What kind of deal makes you give your daughter away?" I snapped.
Then another voice cut through the line.
Familiar. Fierce.
"Adri?"
I blinked hard. "Dylan?"
"Yeah. I'm here." His voice shook. "I swear to God, if he touches you—"
"I'm fine," I whispered.
"No, listen to me," he said quickly, voice tighter now. "Don't trust him, Adri. He's dangerous. This guy isn't just some businessman. He doesn't do rules. You don't know who he really is."
I glanced up and found Hunter standing a few feet away, arms crossed, jaw set, watching me silently. Listening.
"I—" I hesitated, throat closing.
"Just… be careful," Dylan said. "You hear me? Don't let him get in your head. He'll twist things. He'll make you forget who you are."
Hunter's eyes narrowed, but he didn't move. He just waited.
"I haven't forgotten," I whispered.
My mom's voice came again, softer. "We're going to fix this. We'll bring you home."
"I want to believe that," I whispered. "I really do."
There was a long pause.
Then my dad said gently, "We love you, Adriana."
"I love you too," I breathed.
And before the line disconnected, Dylan said quietly, with that protective tone I knew so well..
"You're still my little sister. No matter what."
Click.
The silence that followed was thick.
I slowly placed the receiver down. My heart was still racing, half from the call, half from the man in front of me.
Hunter was watching me, his expression unreadable.
"They won't touch you," he said quietly. "As long as you're with me."
"You mean… besides you?" I asked, voice trembling.
His jaw ticked.
"I mean anyone."
I didn't respond.
I didn't know how.
But as he turned and left the room, one truth rang louder than the rest:
My family had just reminded me who I was.
But this place, this man, was changing everything.
And no matter how much I wanted to deny it…
A part of me wasn't sure I wanted to go back.