Page 30 of Anton

Worry tugged at me as I watched Anton disappear into the tree line, his figure swallowed by the dense foliage. The moment he was gone, the quiet around me felt heavier—oppressive. Without him, everything seemed unnaturally still, as though it had frozen in place. The silence clung to me, suffocating, making it harder to breathe. I rubbed at my chest, as if I could ease the tightening.

I forced myself to take a deep breath, pushing the panic down, but it lingered, a gnawing presence at the edge of my mind. I didn’t like this plan. It meant Anton had to leave me, and I didn’t want that. But I understood why it had to be this way. If Anton said setting a false trail and doubling back was our best shot, then I trusted him. His training, honed during his time in the forces, and what I’d witnessed firsthand when he’d been my bodyguard, proved that he knew what he was doing. If anyone could get me out of this alive, it was Anton.

But Anton was just one man, and the hunters I’d seen earlier were not. At least thirty men, likely more, had been back at the hacienda. I assumed they were all part of the hunt, and I could only hope they were the only ones. He was well and truly outnumbered. And that didn’t even account for the fact that Iwas a liability. I was a hindrance to him, slowing him down, and all I could do was pray he didn’t regret his promise to keep me safe.

My mind drifted back to earlier when Elizabeth had stepped out of the hacienda. I’d known the woman for years—she had been a respected high court judge and Claire’s mother’s best friend. None of us had ever suspected her corruption. Not until Claire stumbled upon it while helping Luca with his case. The revelation had been a complete shock, but nothing compared to the surprise of seeing her this morning, revealing her psychotic schemes of revenge. To think that she was behind these hunts as much as the MP was downright sickening.

I couldn’t fathom how Marko, the youngest Rominov brother and their IT expert, hadn’t uncovered her secrets. She must’ve been exceptionally skilled at covering her tracks if he hadn’t found anything. And that was a huge problem. If the Rominovs didn’t know about her, they wouldn’t connect her to our kidnapping—which meant they wouldn’t have any idea where we were. I’d stormed out of the event, with Anton close behind. Everyone would likely assume he’d just made sure I got home safely. Unless, of course, our cars were still in the car park. I had a vague recollection of someone searching for my keys, which likely meant my car had been moved. And if mine had, Anton’s would’ve been too. The kidnapping had been premeditated, after all.

The thought made my stomach turn—did they even know we were missing?

The realisation hit me hard: the Rominovs weren’t going to storm in with a rescue party. Somewhere deep down, I’d expected them to, but now it was clear—we were on our own. There was no cavalry coming. I had to do whatever I could to make things easier for Anton. No matter how difficult things became, I wouldn’t complain. I trusted him, and I’d followevery instruction he gave me. I might be a liability, but I was determined to be as little of one as possible.

Biting my nails, I stared at the space where Anton had disappeared into the trees. The minutes dragged on, each one stretching endlessly until I couldn’t bear the waiting any longer. Sitting here, doing nothing, was driving me crazy.

It would take Anton time to get far enough ahead to lay a convincing false trail, then he’d have to make his way back so we could leave. I only hoped he’d make it before the first group of hunters reached the bottom of the hill—otherwise, we’d be in serious trouble.

How close were they?

I chewed the inside of my lip, straining to hear any sound that might give away their position. Unable to stay still any longer, I crept toward the edge of the hill, moving cautiously to stay low to the ground, just like Anton had done.

Down below, I spotted them, and my stomach did a flip. Fear gripped me as I saw how close they were—no more than a quarter mile away—but they’d stopped.

I squinted into the harsh sunlight, wondering what they were up to. Normally, I wouldn’t have been able to make out much at this distance, but being at the top of the hill gave me an unexpected advantage. Despite the gap between us, I could see more details than I’d expected. If I wasn’t mistaken, they were drinking—alcohol from the look of the bottle. One of them was even peeing. How charming.

They looked like rowdy tourists out partying, enjoying themselves. I suppose they were, in a way. The thought sent a chill of disgust and fear through me.

My eyes flicked to the other group. They were catching up to the first, though they seemed less in a hurry. My stomachchurned as I watched them, their deliberate pace unsettling. They weren’t rushing. They didn’t need to. These were the guys dressed all in black—the ones who’d taken us—the professionals.

I scanned them carefully. Somewhere amongst them was the man with the tattooed hand and threats to hurt me. I doubted any of them would hesitate to do that; that was, after all, the purpose of this twisted hunt. But somehow, I dreaded him the most.

The sound of quiet footsteps behind me made me snap my head around. My heart leaped in my chest, but it wasn’t the hunters—it was Anton.

Relief washed over me. I wanted to rush to him, throw myself into his arms, but I held back. There was no time for that. He’d been gone too long, and the tension in his face told me as much.

Instead, I pulled back from the edge, careful not to be seen, and moved quietly to his side.

“They’re closer—about a quarter of a mile away. The second group is catching up,” I whispered, careful not to let my voice carry.

Anton nodded. “Let’s go. Stay close to me, and no talking until I say it’s okay,” his voice was low, but steady, the urgency in it clear.

I whispered, “Yes, sir.” Even in the middle of all of this danger, I couldn’t resist teasing him, playing into what I now knew was his kink.

His lips twitched, eyes rolling, before he took a sip from the bottle of water and handed it to me.

I drank quickly, the cool water a fleeting relief to my parched throat. It wasn’t enough, but it would have to do. Anton was already signalling for me to follow, and I moved quickly to his side.

We ran along the top of the hill, then stopped. I crouched low, watching Anton return to where we’d rested. He grabbed alarge branch covered in leaves and began erasing our tracks. He must have brought it with him for this very purpose.

Once he was satisfied all evidence of our presence were gone, he moved back towards me, more slowly this time, carefully covering every footprint as he went. When he reached me, he gestured for me to move ahead. I continued a little further while he destroyed our tracks, until, finally, he signalled for me to head down the hill.

We’d moved far enough away that those below wouldn’t spot us. After a few more minutes, Anton discarded the branch and grabbed my hand. We half ran, half slipped down the rest of the hill, the urgency in his movements matched by my own. It was far easier getting down than going up, and we made it to the bottom in no time.

Once there, we ran over the hard, dry ground, the tufts of dried grass brushing against our legs, until we finally reached the stream again.

Anton waded in ahead of me, his focus unwavering as he forged downstream. I couldn’t help but check him out—his shoulders broad and steady, his black shirt soaked and clinging to his back. Despite the danger, I felt a surge of lust at the sight of him.

My core clenched, and suddenly the heat of the day was nothing compared to the fire that burned inside me. I bit back a moan as images of peeling that wet shirt off him and licking the droplets of water from his chest flooded my mind, making me stumble.

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