Page 46 of Hunter's Game
Behind them, emergency lights still pulsed around the museum as federal agents untangled the web of betrayal and corruption. And somewhere in between, Romano sat in custody, smiling his shark’s smile as he waited to play his final card.
The war wasn’t over. But for now, in the quiet hours before dawn, Eden let herself believe that sometimes the most dangerous choice was the right one.
Even if it meant trusting a man who lived outside the law.
Even if it meant becoming the very thing she’d spent years fighting against.
Even if it meant admitting that love was the most dangerous game of all.
She was ready to play. And this time, if they could convince the Blind Jacks to help, she wouldn’t be playing alone.
The first rule of being captured is to control your breathing. Eden focused on this basic training as she tested the restraints binding her to the chair, keeping her breaths slow and steady despite the blood trickling down her temple. The warehouse around her was industrial-clean, illuminated by harsh fluorescent lights that left no shadows for secrets.
Twenty-four hours after Victor Romano’s capture, they’d implemented their carefully crafted plan. For days following the meeting with Darkness, they’d meticulously prepared—establishing surveillance positions, mapping Aleksander’s patterns, rehearsing scenarios. The club had committed significant resources, positioning members strategically throughout the city.
“You'll have exactly one shot at this,” Darkness had warned during their final briefing. “Romano’s brother is too smart to fall for anything less than perfect.”
He didn’t have to tell her. She knew all too well what Alexanderwas capable of.
This morning, Eden had deliberately made herself visible at the café where Aleksander’s men had been spotted. She’d appeared distracted, vulnerable—the perfect target. When the black SUV had pulled alongside her, she’d put up just enough resistance to seem genuine without compromising the operation. The abduction itself had gone exactly as predicted, following the route they’d prepared for.
Now, sitting in Aleksander’s warehouse, she was exactly where she needed to be. All according to plan. “Comfortable?” The accented voice came from behind her. “I do apologize for the accommodations, but given your particular skill set...”
“Cut the polite captor act.” Eden kept her tone bored despite her racing pulse. “We both know this ends one of two ways—either you kill me, or I kill you. Let’s not pretend this is a social call.”
Aleksander Romano—Viktor’s younger brother and the true power behind their international operation—stepped into view. He shared his brother’s expensive taste in suits, the charcoal Brioni custom-tailored to his leaner, more athletic frame.
Unlike Viktor’s carefully cultivated sophistication, Aleksander carried himself with the coiled readiness of a career operative. His features were sharper than his brother’s—higher cheekbones, more prominent jawline, and eyes thatassessed with cold calculation rather than feigned warmth.
Where Viktor’s manicured hands suggested a man who delegated violence, Aleksander’s bore the telltale calluses and slight scarring of someone intimately familiar with both weapons and close combat. This was a man who enjoyed getting his hands dirty.
“Always so direct.” He smiled, the expression never reaching his eyes. “That’s what I admired about you, you know. Even undercover, you never quite learned to play politics. It makes you...refreshing.”
“Glad I could entertain.” She cataloged details automatically—the way he favored his right side, the bulge of a shoulder holster under his jacket, the four armed guards positioned around the room. “Though I have to say, this seems like a lot of effort just to reminisce about my personality flaws.”
“Perhaps I simply wanted to meet the woman who dismantled my brother’s careful plans.” He pulled up a chair, sitting just out of reach. “Do you know how long we spent positioning Viktor within federal law enforcement? How many years of careful manipulation it took to build his cover?”
“Fifteen years.” Eden met his gaze steadily. “Since you ordered him to have my mother killed.”
Something flickered in his eyes—surprise, maybe. Or respect. “You figured that out, did you?”
“Viktor was the face of the operation, but he never had the stomach for wet work. You, on the other hand...” She smiled without warmth. “You’re the one who gets called when things need to get messy. Like now.”
“Smart girl.” He leaned forward slightly. “Then you understand why this conversation can only end one way.”
“Because I know too much?” She almost laughed. “I knew too much the moment I found my mother’s body. The only difference is now I have proof.”
“Ah yes, the proof.” Aleksander’s smile turned cruel. “Currently being downloaded from secure servers by federal agents who don’t realize their entire network has been compromised. By the time they figure it out, the evidence will be gone and their own security protocols will have sent them on a wild goose chase across three continents.”
Eden kept her expression neutral even as her mind raced. If he was telling the truth, the FBI task force was walking into a trap. Everything she’d sacrificed would be for nothing.
“Of course,” he continued conversationally, “there’s still the matter of your backup files. The ones you gave to your motorcycle club friend.”
Ice formed in her stomach. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“No?” He pulled out his phone, showing her a live video feed. On the screen, Hunter moved through what appeared to be a parking garage,unaware of the laser sight painting a target on his back. “Perhaps this will refresh your memory.”
“He doesn’t have anything.” The words came out faster than intended. “The files went to—”
