Chapter 22: Chapter Twenty-one

The first ray of sunlight spilled through the wide curtains, casting a soft golden glow across the spacious bedroom. Mirabella stirred slowly, her eyelashes fluttering against her cheek as she realized the heavy warmth around her waist wasn’t a blanket but a strong arm. Her breath hitched as the night before returned to her in flashes; his dominance, his punishing touch, the way he had claimed her with a fire that made her body ache even now.

She tried to move gently, to slip from his grasp, but the steel band of Hunter’s arm didn’t loosen. He only pulled her closer, his chest pressing against her bare back, the heat of his body wrapping her like a cage. She had nothing on except the small towel he had wrapped around her last night. It barely covered her thighs; she was as good as naked in his arms.

“Trying to run away again, my little mouse?” His voice was low and rough with sleep, but the words sent cold shivers through her.

“I… I wasn’t running. Just stretching,” she whispered, embarrassed by the closeness.

Hunter chuckled darkly, lowering his face until his lips brushed the shell of her ear. “Don’t lie to me. I can feel the way your heart’s beating. Fast. Nervous. Tempting.” His nose buried itself in her hair, inhaling deeply, slowly. “Do you know how many nights I’ve dreamt of this? Of having you right here, wrapped in me, with your scent on my skin and my head in your soft hair?”

Mirabella’s throat went dry. “Hunter… release me, let me go.” She told him as she wiggled more in his hold.

Instead of releasing her, his hand trailed lazily down the length of her stomach, resting just above the towel’s edge. His lips ghosted over her neck as he whispered, “If you don’t stop wriggling and rubbing yourself against me, I’ll take you again right here. Now. Now.”

Her body stiffened, betraying her with the heat that rushed to her cheeks. She knew he could feel it, knew he could sense every shiver that rippled through her.

“You don’t even understand what you do to me Bella,” he murmured. “The way your body bows under my touch. The way your skin tastes, so sweet, maddening. The way you tremble when I push you past your limit. I could ruin myself on you.”

His words burned into her, leaving her speechless. He kept whispering, every line a mixture of praise and threat.

“I love how soft you are. How warm you feel wrapped around me. Last night…” He groaned in her ear, almost feral. “Last night was the sweetest punishment I’ve ever given anyone. And you enjoyed every second. Didn't you baby?”

Mirabella shut her eyes, desperate to deny it, but her body betrayed her again.

For a long while, he didn’t move, only held her tighter, burying his face in her hair, breathing her in as if she were something he couldn’t get enough of. She thought he might never let her go until the shrill sound of his phone broke the silence.

Hunter cursed softly and grabbed the device from the bedside table, his jaw tightening when he saw the name. He answered with clipped silence, listening, but he didn’t speak a word. His eyes flicked to Mirabella briefly, then away, a storm brewing in his expression.

“Tobias,” she caught faintly before he ended the call.

Hunter tossed the phone aside, his mood shifting instantly.

“Who was that?” she asked carefully.

“No one you need to worry about,” he replied coldly, sliding out of bed. He reached for his shirt, his body every inch as intimidating in daylight as it was last night.

Mirabella sat up, clutching the towel around her. “Hunter, when are you going to let me go back to work? I have a life too, you know?”

He froze, then turned to face her, his mouth curving in a dangerous smirk. “Never.”

Her eyes widened. “What do you mean never? You can’t just keep me here!”

“I can,” he said simply, buttoning his cuffs with maddening calm. “And I will. You belong here now.”

Her chest rose and fell quickly. “I don’t belong to you! I have a life, I have…”

“Enough,” he cut in, his tone dismissive. “Your life is mine now. You’ll eat when I tell you. Sleep when I tell you. Work? You don’t need it. Everything you need, I’ll provide.”

His nonchalance infuriated her. She stood abruptly, forgetting her towel until it slipped from her shoulders and pooled silently at her feet.

Hunter stopped mid-motion, his eyes darkening instantly as his gaze devoured her. The air between them thickened, dangerous and heated.

“Come here,” he ordered, his voice low and husky.

Mirabella wrapped her arms around herself. “No.”

“Mirabella.” His voice dropped further, heavy with threat and desire.

“I said no.” She moved quickly to the other side of the bed, her bare feet cold on the polished floor.

Hunter’s jaw clenched as he advanced slowly, like a predator savoring the chase. “Don’t make me come get you.”

Her heart hammered. At the last second, when he lunged, she darted away and ran straight into the bathroom, slamming the door and locking it. She pressed her back against it, breathless, clutching the towel again around her chest.

Hunter’s shadow loomed on the other side. “Mirabella, open the door.”

“No!”

“I need to use the bathroom.”

“Use another one!” she snapped, her voice trembling.

There was a long pause, then his chuckle rumbled through the wood, deep and dangerous. “You’re going to regret this, little mouse. When I come back, I’ll teach you a lesson you’ll never forget.”

Her pulse raced at the promise. She stayed quiet until she heard his heavy footsteps retreat.

The day dragged slowly. Mirabella wandered the massive house aimlessly, feeling both trapped and restless. The silence was suffocating until Maria, the elderly housekeeper, found her near the grand kitchen.

“Mirabella,” Maria greeted warmly, wiping her hands on her apron. “You look pale. Come, eat something.”

Mirabella sat reluctantly, nibbling at the bread and soup Maria offered. The woman’s presence soothed her more than she expected.

“How long have you worked here, Maria?” she asked softly.

“All my life, child,” Maria replied with a small smile. “I served his mother before she passed. I’ve known sir since he was born. He is strict, yes, but… considerate in his own way. His father was not an easy man. Hunter grew up carrying burdens too heavy for a boy. Sometimes he hides his heart behind harshness.”

Mirabella listened carefully. She wanted to hate him, yet these small glimpses of his past unsettled her.

Later, restless again, she wandered into his study. The room was dark and lined with towering shelves. The scent of leather and old paper filled the air. Her eyes fell on a book with a black cover, the gold letters reading:

“The Art of Breaking Chains.”

She pulled it free, curiosity winning, and curled into his leather chair. The chair was far too big for her, swallowing her small frame, but she felt oddly safe in it. Before she realized, her eyelids grew heavy. The book slipped onto her lap as she drifted into sleep.

Hunter returned late, his mood thunderous after the ring, after Geret. His mind was sharp, his body burning with violence he hadn’t been able to unleash fully. But the instant he stepped into the quiet house, he sought her.

“Where is she?” he asked Maria, his tone clipped.

Maria dipped her head nervously. “Mirabella is… in your study, sir.”

Hunter’s frown deepened. He strode down the hall, his boots echoing on the marble floor. When he pushed open the heavy study doors, the sight that greeted him made his breath catch.

Mirabella, curled in his chair, asleep with the forbidden book on her lap. The soft light painted her face in innocence, but the sight of her in his place, looking so at ease in the throne he never shared, did something to him he couldn’t explain.

His hands clenched at his sides. His control wavered.

The storm inside him shifted.

And he whispered to himself, “Mine.”