Page 32 of Hunter's Game
The next hour was a blur of planning and preparation. Eden laid out her strategy—a complicated web of digital manipulation, forged documents, and carefully orchestrated chaos that would force Romano to reveal his entire network.
“It’s insane,” King said finally. “Could get us all killed.”
“Probably,” Hunter agreed, but his eyes were bright with anticipation. “When do we start?”
Eden pulled up the museum’s blueprints on her laptop. “The new wing opens in six days. Romanowill want to move fast, before anyone can examine the artifacts too closely.”
“That doesn’t give us much time,” Darkness commented as he and King studied the plans.
“Time’s not the problem.” Eden brought up another window showing police patrol routes. “The problem is going to be keeping Romano’s people from realizing we’re playing them until it’s too late.”
“And keeping the remaining Devil’s Mark members from figuring out we’re involved,” Hunter added. “They’ll want revenge for Merrick.”
“Let them try.” Darkness’s smile was all teeth. “About time someone reminded them why you don’t fuck with the Blind Jacks.”
Eden watched the men around the table nod in agreement, feeling something tighten in her chest. These outlaws, these criminals she’d spent years fighting, were now her only allies. The irony would have made her laugh if it wasn’t all so deadly serious.
Hunter caught her eye across the table, and she saw her own complicated emotions reflected there. They were past the point of no return now—had been since that first moment in the Devil’s Mark clubhouse. Whatever happened next would either save them or destroy them completely.
She found she didn’t care which outcome they were heading toward. For the first time since finding her mother’s body, she had a clear shot at justice. At revenge. At something that feltdangerously like belonging. Years of training had honed her instincts to recognize when the pieces were aligning, and right now, everything was falling perfectly into place.
“Well then.” She pulled up the museum’s security protocols, letting herself smile. “Let’s go steal some history.”
The thing about blood money is that it always leaves a trail. Eden stared at the numbers scrolling across her laptop screen, watching millions flow through Romano’s network of shell companies. Behind each transaction was a story—artifacts stripped from war-torn countries, priceless pieces of history reduced to entries in a digital ledger.
And behind every story was a body.
“Found something?” Hunter’s voice was warm against her ear as he leaned over her shoulder, close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from his chest.
“Found everything.” She highlighted a series of transfers. “Romano’s not just moving artifacts. He’s—”
A bullet shattered the window above them.
Hunter tackled her off the chair as glass rained down. They hit the floor hard, his body covering hers as more shots peppered the wall. Through the chaos, Eden caught a glimpse of movement on the rooftop across the street—multiple shooters, professional gear.
“Friends of yours?” Hunter’s voice was tight as he drew his weapon.
“Daddy’s old crew, probably.” She pulled her own gun, using the reflection in her broken laptop screen to track the attackers’ positions. “They never did like loose ends.”
“Good thing we’re not loose ends.” He flashed her that dangerous smile she was starting to crave. “We’re more like loose cannons.”
“Less flirting, more shooting.” But she found herself grinning back as they moved in perfect sync, taking up defensive positions on either side of the window.
The next ten minutes were a blur of gunfire and controlled chaos. Eden relied on her years of tactical training, automatically calculating firing angles and cover positions. She found herself unconsciously syncing with Hunter’s movements, their combat styles complementing each other with startling efficiency. It should have unnerved her, how seamlessly they worked together despite knowing each other such a short time. Instead, it felt like finding a perfect tactical partner.
When silence finally fell, they found five bodies on the opposite roof. Professional hitters, just as she’d suspected. But something was off about their gear.
“These aren’t Devil’s Mark patches.” Hunter examined one of the dead men’s jackets. “Military contractors. High-end ones.”
“Romano’s not taking chances.” Eden retrieved one of their phones, already working oncracking the encryption. “He knows we found something in the financial records.”
“Speaking of which.” Hunter’s voice held a question. “What exactly did you find?”
Eden hesitated. The information on her laptop changed everything—including how much she could trust the man watching her with those too-knowing eyes.
“Eden.” He moved closer, backing her against the wall. “No more secrets. Remember?”
“The artifacts aren’t just about money.” She met his gaze steadily. “Romano’s been using them to fund something bigger. Something that involves military-grade weapons, specialized training facilities, and enough political capital to make small governments nervous.”
