Chapter 29: Chapter Twenty-eight

Hunter’s grip around her waist tightened as his deep voice rolled out across the table like a command, low and filled with dominance.

“Well… if you must know,” his smirk curved wickedly, “this is Mirabella. And she is mine.”

The way he said mine shook her chest. It wasn’t just a word. It was a claim, prison, fire, and something darker than she could explain. She flushed instantly, her face hot with embarrassment. Every pair of eyes at the long table swung to her, and Mirabella wanted the floor to open up and swallow her whole.

Hunter didn’t care. His smirk only deepened, his thumb rubbing slow circles against her hip as if daring her to move an inch.

“She was Antonio's daughter, I'm sure you lots know him well. Now, she’s mine with no apology,” he added, his voice laid enough for those around to hear, the weight of it spread like smoke. “Mine to command and mine to punish.” He looked straight into her eyes; a promise of what to expect soon.

Mirabella shuddered at the heat curling low in her stomach. Her palms sweated. She didn’t want to like how he said it, didn’t want her body to react, but her blush betrayed her.

Hunter leaned in close to her ear, whispering so low that only she caught it. “Mine… with no way out, little Bella. Don’t even think you will not be punished tonight.”

Her breath caught, and she quickly lowered her gaze.

“Hunter…” she whispered, trying to make her tone a warning, but it sounded weak.

He chuckled, dark and satisfied, before turning his head back to the table.

“Now Bella,” Hunter’s voice lifted, commanding attention as he began introducing the men one by one.

“Victor,” he nodded to the man on his left.

Mirabella’s eyes flicked over him, unable to stop herself. Victor was huge—easily six-foot-five with a thick chest that strained against his black leather cut. His arms were tattooed sleeves, and the veins stood out against his skin like ropes. His jaw was cut hard, his lips shaped in a dangerous grin that spoke of violence and charm all at once. His dark eyes locked on her with the weight of a predator, but she somehow didn't look away.

Victor whistled softly and tilted his head. “Pretty little thing, isn’t she?”

Hunter’s jaw twitched, but he said nothing yet.

“Ramos,” Hunter went on, his tone clipped.

Ramos was leaner than Victor but no less intimidating. His hair was long, tied back at the nape of his neck, with strands falling across his forehead. He had a faint scar around his collarbone that only added to his dangerous aura. He smiled with half his mouth, as though everything in life amused him.

He nodded at her. “It's no wonder you give her no breathing space Hunter. Hard to start away from something so fragile and sweet-looking.”

Mirabella’s chest squeezed at the attention. She bit her lip and quickly glanced at Hunter.

“Nate,” Hunter introduced next, eyes narrowing slightly as though daring him to say something stupid.

Nate was rugged, with dark stubble across his jaw and stormy gray eyes that seemed to strip away everything he looked at. His hair was cropped close.

“He doesn’t talk much,” Hunter muttered, which of course was a lie. Hunter still pinned him with that dangerous look which made Nate raise his hands in surrender and he gave her a cocky smile.

Mirabella swallowed.

“And this one,” Hunter gestured lazily with his fingers, “is Tally.”

Tally leaned back in his chair with a grin that stretched ear to ear. Unlike the others, his blond hair fell in waves around his face, giving him a dangerous boyish look. Which of course was a disguise because he looks nothing like a boy. His blue eyes sparkled with something and he looked her over as though she were a sweet treat laid on the table.

“Finally met the one who keeps you in, eh, Devil?” Tally’s voice was teasing, lighthearted, but his words made Mirabella’s cheeks flame. “Shame you kept her hidden. I’d have given her a dance or two.”

Hunter’s smirk vanished. His eyes flashed dangerously, though he still didn’t move.

“Lux,” Hunter’s voice cut sharp, moving on before he did something rash.

Lux was dark-haired. His olive-toned skin and sharp, narrowed eyes gave him an exotic, deadly beauty. He looked almost too perfect, the kind of man that made women’s heads turn in any room. He gave her a slow, deliberate look, then smirked, revealing a silver tooth that glinted under the lights.

“Careful,” he said simply, his voice deep and smooth like whiskey.

Mirabella didn’t know if he meant it for her or for Hunter, but she didn’t dare ask.

“Tate,” Hunter introduced, his tone gruff.

Tate had the look of a soldier. Buzzed hair, square jaw, and a frame that looked carved from stone. His biceps flexed even as he sat still, and his eyes were sharp, calculating, like someone who missed nothing. He gave her a short nod but said nothing.

And then Hunter’s gaze darkened as it landed on the last man. His lips pressed into a line, and his voice carried a warning when he spoke.

“Damian,” he said. Then, after a pause, “but everyone calls him Scorpion. My cousin.”

Mirabella’s eyes flicked to Damian, and her breath caught.

He had the same stormy blue eyes as Hunter, that same piercing look that could peel back your skin and read your soul. His jawline was sharp, his hair a touch longer than Hunter’s, and though there were subtle differences in his build—leaner, there was no mistaking the resemblance. They shared blood, and it showed.

Damian didn't smirk nor smile, leaning forward. “So,” his voice rolled out, smooth but dark, “she is Antonio’s daughter?”

Mirabella’s heart skipped. Her head snapped toward him. “Wait—” she started, breathless, “do you… do you know my father?”

But before Damian could answer, Hunter’s entire body stiffened. His voice cracked like thunder as he turned his head sharply toward his cousin.

“Don’t even think about it, Scorpion.” His voice was low, lethal. “Don’t involve her. Don’t talk about him to her. Stay away from her. Totally.”

The warning was cold, sharp enough to slice.

Damian’s lips curled into a mocking snicker, his eyes glinting. “Touchy huh,” he murmured, smirking darkly at Hunter before leaning back in his chair.

Mirabella’s brows furrowed. There was tension here, thick, heavy tension. The two men weren’t enemies, they didn't look like one, but they weren’t friends either. They were cousins bound by blood, yet it looked as though every second in each other’s presence pressed a knife against their nerves.

Hunter’s grip on her tightened, dragging her even closer against his chest as though to remind everyone—including Damian—that she was his and his alone.

The men broke into conversation again, talking about things she couldn’t follow—business, streets, rides, names she didn’t recognize. Mirabella’s head spun. She wanted out of there.

She made a small move to slip from Hunter’s lap, desperate to flee.

Hunter didn’t budge. His hand locked against her hip, his lips grazing her ear as he whispered, “Don’t even think about it.”

Her cheeks burned. She sat stiffly.

Harper later served their table, moving smoothly across the floor. She placed drinks and bottles on the table, smiling politely at the men. Mirabella exhaled as Harper gave her a I-can’t-help-you smile.

Hunter leaned in, his breath hot on her ear. “You’re going to pay for disobeying me, little minx. Here,” he whispered, his tone dark and edged with need.

She tensed, glancing at him in alarm. “Hunter, please,” she whispered quickly, “not here…”

His hand slid down, settling on her thigh under the table. Slowly, deliberately, his fingers traced circles against her skin, inching higher, closer to the heat between her legs.

Mirabella’s heart thudded. “Stop,” she whispered harshly, panicked. “We’re outside…”

He smirked, not slowing. His breath tickled her ear. “It doesn’t matter. They know what I’m doing. They won’t say a word. I could place you on this table right now and shove my dick deep inside you and fuck you hard and nobody would say a thing. It's almost like a normal thing to us.”

Her face blazed with heat and arousal all at once. She pressed her lips together, shaking her head, her breath coming short. She doesn't want to be fucked in front of so many people.

His fingers pressed against her panties, rubbing slowly at her clit, through the thin fabric. Her body jolted at the sudden spark of pleasure. She clenched her fists against his chest, trying to push him away, but the harder she tried, the more he held her tight.

“Hunter…” she whimpered, her voice breaking.

“Shh,” he murmured. “Take it.” He pushed his hand in her hair and slammed his lips to hers.

Her breathing quickened, sharp and fast, her chest rising and falling as his fingers stroked her steadily. He bit her lower lip until it hurt.

She was desperate not to make a sound, desperate not to reveal her unraveling. But she couldn’t stop it. A soft moan slipped from her lips, quiet but unmistakable. Her body shook, her legs tightening around his hand. She buried her face against his chest, trying to hide, trying to muffle the sound.

The men kept talking, their voices calm and steady, as though nothing was happening at the table. But she knew they noticed. She knew every single one of them was aware of what Hunter was doing.

From nowhere, Jackie appeared.

Her voice rang casually at first as she greeted the men, her smile brightening and flirty. But the second her eyes landed on Mirabella sitting on Hunter’s lap, that smile shattered. Her face flushed red, her brows knit tightly together.

She wanted a confrontation, so she stepped closer, circling the table until she came up behind Hunter. That was when she noticed his hand beneath the table, moving deliberately.

“The fuck…” she muttered under her breath, her face red with anger and embarrassment.

Mirabella’s stomach dropped, but Hunter didn’t stop. His pace quickened, his fingers stroking faster, deeper, driving her toward the edge.

“Please…. Ah…” Mirabella gasped softly, clutching at him desperately, “Hunter, stop… I can’t—”

“Give in,” he growled low, his lips against her ear. Nibbling. “Let them all know you’re mine.”

She whimpered, pressing her face into his chest as the climax tore through her. Her body rocked against his fingers, her breath sharp, breaking as the pleasure consumed her.

She clung to him, arms locked around his neck, hiding her face as she trembled, shuddering against him. Her breaths came in short, desperate pants, trying to calm herself, to quiet the storm ripping through her.

Hunter’s smirk was vicious, his eyes glinting as he whispered against her ear, “My little minx. You like that, don't you?”

Mirabella didn’t dare look up. She knew. She knew every man at that table had witnessed her undoing, and embarrassment burned hotter than fire in her veins. She buried herself deeper into Hunter’s chest, refusing to meet their eyes.

Hunter only smiled, stroking her back possessively, pleased with her obedience, with the way she clung to him.

Jackie muttered something under her breath, her face twisted with fury, before storming off, heels clicking hard against the floor.

Hunter didn’t even spare her a glance.

His cock throbbed painfully against his jeans, but he held back. Not here. Not now. He could wait.

But when they got home…?

A dark promise gleamed in his eyes as he tightened his hold on Mirabella, his voice a whisper of ruin.

“I’m going to wreck you, sweetheart.”

And the thought of it made his smirk grow even darker.