Chapter 41: Chapter Forty

By the time they left the arena, Marcus and Scar were already in the ring, throwing punches and kicking each other’s arses. The crowd was on fire, screaming, cheering, betting, and throwing words into the smoky air. But Hunter wasn't settled as he drew her to her foot and started to leave.

On that same floor, Hunter held Mirabella’s hand firmly and led her through what looked like an alley or a very long and very dark corridor. The crowd noise dimmed behind them the deeper they went. This time, Tobias followed, walking quietly in front as if leading the way. He didn’t say a word, his footsteps echoing against the walls. He looked like a shadow, moving fast and sure, as though he knew exactly where they were headed.

Mirabella’s chest was already tight. The air here was heavier, colder, with a chill that sank into her skin. She squeezed Hunter’s hand, her eyes darting around the walls. Everything was so dark, so strange, and her nerves were stretched tight. The only illumination here were dimly lit bulbs placed far apart from each other.

They kept going deeper and deeper until Tobias finally stopped in front of another large arcade door. Without hesitation, he pushed it open with both hands, the heavy creak filling the silence. He held the door wide open.

Hunter walked in first, pulling Mirabella along.

The moment they stepped in, Mirabella felt it. The atmosphere here was different—airless, almost suffocating. The walls were dark, painted in shades of black and stone gray. The floor was damp in some places, and the stone ceiling was low, the bulb dangling and making some noise in the quiet.

This place looked like a prison.

Her suspicion was confirmed almost immediately because she saw movement in the first locked cell—a form curled in one end of the small, cramped room. A man. She couldn’t see his face, but his body was thin, his knees drawn to his chest, his head bent down in defeat.

Her heart dropped into her stomach, not realizing she was already pressing herself against Hunter’s side, clutching his jacket with both fists like a terrified child. She didn’t like this place. Not one bit. She wanted to leave. Right now.

Hunter noticed her fear. He felt the tremble in her body and the way she was shrinking into him. His jaw clenched tight. He hated it. He didn’t want her to fear his world. He couldn’t stand the thought of her despising him or any part of the empire he controlled. She was his, and she was going nowhere. If she was going to be in his life forever, then she had to see and accept everything he was.

The anger burning in his chest made him react without thinking. He grabbed her arms and pulled her away from his side where she was trying to hide. He made her face him directly, his grip firm but not crushing.

“Open your eyes, Mirabella,” he said, his voice deep and sharp. “Don’t cower. Don’t close them. Look. See everything. This is me. This is the world I control. And you are not going to run from it.”

Her eyes widened as he turned her shoulders and gently pushed her forward into the wide corridor of cells.

Her voice was small, shaky when she asked, “W-who are these people? Why… Why did you lock them up in the dark?”

Hunter’s tone was calm but heavy with authority. “They disobeyed me. Some betrayed me. Some stole from my supplies and used them. Some were spies sent to kill me or get information. And some were enemies who tried to harm me. This is where they belong. Caged until I decide what their fate would be.”

Mirabella’s throat closed. She turned her wet eyes up to him. “Supplies? Wait, did you… did you keep my brother here before you killed him?”

Her words pierced him deeper than any blade could. For a moment, Hunter was thrown off guard. His heart stopped. He blinked once, then twice, trying to register what she had just asked. The look in her eyes—it wasn’t only fear. It was grief. It was pain. It was accusation.

His jaw hardened, his breath tightening in his chest. He didn’t answer. Not yet. Instead, he took her hand firmly and pulled her away from the cages.

Mirabella’s mind was running wild. Every grief she ever felt came running back. And every step she took with him, every shadow that flickered in the prison walls made her think of David. Her brother. Did Hunter lock him in a place like this? Did he beat him? Chain him? Starve him? Did her brother spend his last days in darkness, trapped, tortured, forgotten?

The thought tore at her chest. She pressed her hand hard against her heart, trying to rub away the sharp ache clawing inside her. Tears burned her eyes and slid down her cheeks, one after the other.

Hunter pulled her into something that looked like another elevator. The metallic doors closed with a loud clank, and it began to descend again.

Mirabella pressed herself into the farthest corner, away from him. Her breath was shallow, her hands shaking. Her mind couldn’t register what was going on anymore. Where was he taking her again? Why was he showing her all of these? Every new level they reached only terrified her more.

Hunter turned his head to the side and saw her pressing herself away from him. The sight stabbed him like a knife. He didn’t need anyone to tell him—she was very scared now. But he wasn’t done. She had to see everything. She had to understand.

The question about her brother lingered between them, heavy and unanswered. He didn’t give her a reply yet, but he would. Not now. Maybe later. After she has come to terms with everything.

When the elevator stopped, he stretched his hand out, grabbed hers, and pulled her out again. His stride was steady, firm, unshaken.

This time, they stopped in front of a huge black door. Hunter pressed a set of digits into the keypad beside it. With a hiss and a heavy thud, the door began to open slowly.

Mirabella’s breath caught in her throat.

The space beyond looked like another world entirely. The walls were black, the lights low but steady. There was movement everywhere. Men, most of them half-naked, wearing only their pants. Women who are scantily dressed, some in leather, some in lace, some in only their panties and bra, barely covered at all.

But it wasn’t that that caught Mirabella’s attention. It was what they were doing.

Her eyes widened in shock.

They were working. Their hands moved fast, mechanical, trained. They were cutting, wrapping, sealing, and packing small white powders into neat transparent bags. Others were weighing them, stacking them into boxes. Drugs.

Hard drugs.

Her breath froze. She felt like her lungs forgot how to work. She couldn’t breathe. Her chest tightened painfully, her stomach twisted violently.

Her knees wobbled, her eyes wide with horror. She hadn’t blinked since the sight hit her.

Hunter noticed immediately. He turned her to him, lowered his face close to hers, and whispered firmly, “Breathe Bella. Breathe.”

That single word snapped her chest open, and she gasped for air, exhaling shakily.

She was trembling from head to toe. A hot tear slid down her cheek, then another, until her vision blurred. Her eyes locked with his, and all she could see was that hard face that held no atom of regret or fear.

Before Hunter could say anything, she suddenly clamped her hand over her mouth and spun away from him. And then she was running. Running out of the door, her steps frantic and desperate.

“Fuck." Hunter cursed under his breath and dashed after her. His voice was deep and commanding as it echoed down the corridor. “Mirabella! Stop!”

But she didn’t stop. She didn’t listen. She couldn’t stop.

Her legs carried her as fast as they could, her heart pounding in her ears. She needed to get away from that sight, from those drugs, from the cruel confirmation that Hunter was more dangerous than she could ever imagine.

Hunter increased his pace. His long strides cut the distance in seconds. His jaw was hard, his eyes blazing with fury and desperation.

He caught up to her in no time, grabbing her arm and spinning her around so fast she gasped. His other hand slid into her hair, gripping it firmly, pulling her head back so her eyes met his.

The nausea that had been threatening her throat died immediately under the sharp, burning weight of his gaze and the tug in her hair.

His eyes flashed, dark and furious. His voice came out low, vibrating with controlled anger.

“You are not allowed to run away from any of this,” he told her. His breath was hot against her face, his tone leaving no room for doubt. “This is my fate, Mirabella. And I am your fate. Accept it.”

Her eyes closed. The words struck her hard, ripping through her chest, shaking every part of her world. She knows it would be difficult to get out of all of this.

She needed to find a way and do something…