Page 32 of Hunted to the Altar
“Watch me,” I replied, my smirk deepening. “And if you keep testing me, Nina, I’ll show you just how far my control extends.”
She stormed past me, but I didn’t follow. Instead, I stayed in the bathroom, the taste of her confrontation lingering in the air like a drug I couldn’t quit. She could run, she could fight, but in the end, she was mine.
And I would make sure she knew it.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Nina
The morning sunlightstreamed through the window, casting long beams of golden light across the penthouse floor. It was the kind of beautiful, serene morning that mocked everything festering inside me. I stood near the edge of the window, one hand gripping the cold glass as my eyes scanned the world outside.
Freedom. It felt like a foreign concept now, one that dangled just out of reach. My chest tightened as I thought of how things had spiraled. I wasn’t just a prisoner in this luxurious cage—I was trapped in a game I didn’t even know the rules of.
Samuel had disappeared early in the morning without a word. His absence should have felt like a relief, but it left me uneasy. It wasn’t like him to leave me unmonitored for long. The thought alone made my skin crawl. Was I actually beginning to notice his patterns? To expect his moves?
I hated that my mind had adapted so quickly to him. Hated that a part of me even cared where he’d gone.
The sharp knock on the door startled me out of my thoughts. My heart leapt into my throat, pounding violently as I turned toward the sound. Before I could react, the door opened, and one of Samuel’s men stepped in. He was large, broad-shouldered, and had a face that told you he wouldn’t hesitate to break bones if ordered.
"Mrs. Caputo," he said, his tone respectful but firm. "Samuel sent me to monitor you until he returns."
I stiffened at the name, my cheeks heating with a mix of anger and embarrassment. "Don’t call me that," I said. "It’s Nina. Just Nina."
He nodded, but his expression didn’t change. "Of course, Mrs. Caputo."
I glared at him, but it was useless. They would not stop. To them, I wasn’t just Nina anymore. I was someone’s possession, someone’s wife, in name, if nothing else. The thought made bile rise in my throat, but I forced it down and turned back toward the window, dismissing him with my silence. He seemed content to linger near the door, his presence a reminder that Samuel’s reach extended even in his absence.
The hours crawled by like molasses. I busied myself with reading a book I’d found in the study, though the words blurred together on the page. Every sound, every creak of the floorboards, had me flinching. Anxiety curled in my gut, tight and unforgiving. Something felt wrong, even though I couldn’t put my finger on it.
By the time the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, I was a bundle of raw nerves. I’d almost convinced myself that my paranoia was unfounded—a byproduct of everything I’d been through—when Samuel finally returned.
He stepped into the penthouse with the confidence thatturned heads. His tailored suit was immaculate, not a hair out of place, and yet there was a storm brewing in his eyes. I could feel it even before he spoke.
"Pack a bag," he ordered, his voice curt and sharp enough to cut.
I blinked, surprised. "What?"
Samuel’s gaze locked onto mine, and for a moment, I swore I saw a flicker of something—concern, maybe—beneath the mask he wore. "I said, pack a bag. We’re leaving."
Panic rose in my chest like a tidal wave. "Why? What’s going on?"
"There’s no time for questions, Nina," he snapped, his tone brooking no argument. "Just do as I say."
My fingers trembled as I turned toward the bedroom, his presence a heavy weight at my back. The air between us was thick with unspoken tension, but I didn’t dare push him further. Not when he looked like a man ready to blow.
The drive was tense and silent, the low hum of the car’s engine the only sound. Samuel sat beside me, his posture rigid and his jaw clenched. I kept my eyes fixed on the passing city lights, my mind racing with questions I didn’t dare voice. Wherever we were going, he didn’t intend to tell me until he was ready.
When we finally arrived, the sight that greeted me made my stomach churn. It was an unassuming building on the outskirts of the city, the place you’d overlook if you weren’t specifically looking for it. Samuel’s men were already there, standing guard with grim expressions that only added to my unease.
"Inside," Samuel said, his hand resting on the small of my back as he guided me forward. The touch was firm, possessive, and impossible to ignore.
The interior was cold and sterile, a stark contrast to the lavish penthouse I’d grown used to. Samuel’s men flanked us aswe walked through dimly lit hallways, their presence both reassuring and suffocating.
"What is this place?" I finally asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
Samuel didn’t answer immediately, his focus fixed ahead. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and laced with tension. "It’s safe. That’s all you need to know."
Safe. The word rang hollow in my ears. Nothing about this situation felt safe.
