Page 64 of His Queen

“Nunzio,” I growl into the receiver.

“She’s not in the house, I’m afraid, so no need for you to go inside.”

I quickly glance around me, trying to see where the cameras are that he’s watching me from, but I’m hardly surprised that he has eyes and ears all over this fucking place.

“Why not just make it easy for the both of us and tell me where she is? We can skip this primal hunt bullshit.”

He snickers. “Now, where’s the fun in that?”

“This is fun to you, motherfucker?”

“Of course, it is. Why else would I go through so much trouble putting all this together?”

“Because you’re a dick.”

“Because I’m a man who doesn’t like being fucked with, and that’s what you did when you tried to bullshit me and everyone else by pretending the beautiful Mirabella was your wife.”

“She is my wife!” I yell into the phone. “She is my fucking wife, and you better not have laid a hand on her, or I swear—”

“I’m afraid it’s a bit late for that.” Nunzio laughs, an evil cackle that makes my ears bleed, and I’m snarling in response, rage smothering every ounce of control I have.

“I’m going to kill you, Nunzio. Even if it takes me twenty fucking years, I won’t rest until I’ve carved your heart out of your chest.”

“How romantic,” he says smugly, and I can already taste his blood on my tongue.

I rub my temple. “You got me here, Ferrero. So, what the fuck now?”

“Here’s the deal. Find her first, and she’s yours. You can pick her up, put her in that snazzy car of yours, and drive her safely back to your fortress.”

“That easy, huh?”

“Well…no. See, there are four other men taking part in tonight’s hunt. Four men who have become regular clients of mine. And they are clients who—how can I put it?—have specific tastes. Fucked up tastes, really.”

“Nunzio, I swear to God.”

“Hey, man, I’m making this as easy as possible for you. Just find her before they do. Easy.”

I scan the area. “There isn’t anyone else here,” I say.

“The others are all starting at different areas around the estate. I mean, honestly, it’s not going to be much of a game when you all just kill each other at the starting point.” The sound of his exhale has me picturing him all too clearly, an unmoving figure in the armchair, cigar clamped between two fingers, eyes narrowed as if deep in thought. Next to him is Lucifer grinning cunningly as a proud mentor who watched his apprentice put together every intricate detail of what has to be his most fucked-up game.

“Just know, Nunzio, when all this is done, I’m coming for you.”

“Looking forward to it. Good luck, Del Rossa.”

He hangs up, and for a moment, I stand there, frozen, trying to take in the gravity of what’s about to happen. I’d be a liar if I said there’s not a trace of panic in my system because there is. My wife is out there and about to be hunted by four other disgusting individuals across acres of woods. I have a one in five chance to find her first. This is lunacy, but I’ll become the madness if it means I’ll find her.

I take off running, heading away from the house and into the darkness. I use my instincts to guide me, trusting them more than any map or knowledge of this strange new terrain. I can hear noises in all directions—rustling branches, something scuttling away through dead leaves—but none are familiar enough for me to make out anything specific.

My chest tightens as I sprint through rows of trees, pushing harder than I ever have before. Fear is running rampant through the gallons of adrenaline, fueling me forward harder, stronger, faster. I won’t stop until I have her in my arms.

We had an hour to get our hands on the estate plans so I could have an idea of where the fuck I’m going. I know there’s a pond somewhere to the north and a big forest in the east, so I make my way toward it.

A gunshot cracks and echoes in front of me, and I stumble blindly before dropping to a crouch behind a large red oak tree, my gun in hand as I zone in on all my senses. Every sound pierces my ears as I listen intently when I hear leaves crunch under a heavy footstep.

I set my sights on the area in front of me, scanning the landscape draped in darkness. Seconds pass as I remain as silent as a goddamn mouse, barely fucking breathing with nothing happening before I finally see branches swish. Someone is coming my way, slow and steady. Adrenaline floods my system as I quickly raise my gun toward the figure but hesitate for a moment. What if it’s her? What if it’s Mira? It’s so fucking dark out here. If it weren’t for the moonlight, there would have been no way to navigate this terrain.

I’m crouched when a branch snaps and a silhouette appears in the distance. That’s when I know it’s not her. Mira doesn’t have broad shoulders or a wide chest, nor is she six feet tall.

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