Chapter 42: Chapter Forty-one

Mirabella’s face was pale by the time they finally reached the upper part of Devil’s Den. The wild pounding of music, the smell of smoke and sweat, and the strange sights she had witnessed below still haunted her mind. Her lips trembled faintly, but she said nothing. She felt a strong urge to get away from all the noise and faces.

Hunter was silent beside her. For once, he wasn’t pushing her. He wasn’t demanding she accept his world, wasn’t ordering her to look at him or anything else. He gave her space, watching her quietly from the corner of his eyes as they walked together. His hand didn’t leave her lower back, but his grip wasn’t hard. It was more like an anchor, keeping her close and steady not to fall.

The silence between them was thick. Mirabella’s mind was spinning, but she held it in. She needed air. She needed peace. She needed to understand what she had just seen.

Just when they reached the front, the heavy door chimed. A buzzing sound filled the hallway, and then it swung open.

A familiar face stepped in.

It was Hilda.

She wore black denim pants and a tight red top. Her dark hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail, her makeup mild, her posture confident. But confusion and unease settled on her features as she looked around, clearly out of place in this dangerous den.

When her eyes fell on Mirabella, everything shifted. Her stiff shoulders dropped slightly, and she released a heavy breath of relief. Then her lips stretched wide in a smile, full of warmth and affection.

“Mira!” Hilda called, rushing forward.

Mirabella froze. Her chest squeezed painfully as Hilda's voice reached her ears. She had been praying silently that the night couldn’t possibly get any worse. But here was Hilda—someone she had been avoiding, someone she had kept at a distance with excuse after excuse because she didn't want her to see what Hunter had turned her to.

Hilda must have come to look for her at the club. Mirabella had told her so many lies. Always insisting she couldn’t have visitors, couldn’t meet her, couldn’t explain. Now, she was standing in front of her. She knew she was not going to be able to keep the truth from her anymore.

Hunter noticed the way Mirabella stiffened beside him and how her eyes locked on Hilda. He felt the tension in her body. Slowly and deliberately, he placed his hand against the small of her back, trying to help her calm her stiff bones.

But Mirabella shifted away from his touch.

That small movement was a knife to Hunter’s pride, he grinded his teeth but said nothing.

Hilda reached them quickly. Without hesitation, she threw her arms around Mirabella, pulling her into a tight hug. Mirabella melted instantly. She needed it. She needed human warmth, safety, comfort—something she hadn’t felt in hours. Her arms came up, wrapping around Hilda, holding tight as if afraid to let go.

When they pulled apart, Hilda's face was full of concern and she cupped Mirabella’s face in her hands, tilting it toward the light. Her brows knit together as she studied her.

“Bella,” she whispered urgently, “are you alright? You look so pale. You’re white as a sheet.”

Mirabella forced a small smile. Her voice was weak, but steady. “I’m okay, Hilda. I’m fine.”

But Hilda wasn’t convinced. Her sharp eyes shifted to Hunter, who stood just a step away, his presence dark and intimidating. The sight of him made her shift uncomfortably on her feet. She didn’t trust him, didn’t like the way he loomed over Mirabella, didn’t like the air around him.

Still, she turned back to her friend. Her voice softened but held urgency. “Bella, what happened? Why haven’t you let me visit? Why all the excuses? Do you know your neighbors told me you don’t even live there anymore? What’s going on with you? You need to explain everything. I'm worried dear.”

Mirabella’s lips parted, but no words came. Her heart raced. She turned her face toward Hunter, searching his expression, silently begging for escape.

Her voice came out fragile, almost breaking. “I feel sick… can I… can I go home with Hilda?”

Hunter’s jaw tightened instantly. His hand slid to her side, pulling her firmly against him as he spoke low, his voice like stone. “That’s not possible, Mirabella. I can’t let you go anywhere. With anyone.”

Hilda’s eyes widened. She froze, her gaze darting between them, reading the unspoken war. She didn’t say anything, but her confusion deepened. Something wasn’t right. She could see Mirabella wasn’t herself, and all she wanted was to take her away from whatever was causing this pale and broken look.

“I feel sick,” Mirabella repeated, her voice rising, desperate now. She looked up and sighed, her hands trembling. “Let me go with Hilda. I want to go with her.”

Hunter’s hand clamped hard on her shoulder, making her face him. His eyes locked into hers, hard and unyielding.

“Bella,” he said slowly, dangerously, “don’t make me…”

She didn’t let him finish. She lifted her eyes to his, letting him see the raw misery, the innocence, the plea that was tearing her apart inside. Her lips trembled as she whispered, “Let me go. Just tonight… please.”

The room seemed to pause around Hunter. His chest rose and fell with sharp breaths. His teeth clenched together as he tried to cage the rage boiling inside him. His hands twitched, torn between dragging her back to him and giving her what she asked for.

Finally, after a long, tense silence, he inhaled sharply and nodded once.

“You go,” he said through gritted teeth. “But I will come pick you up tomorrow evening.”

His head turned slowly toward Hilda, his eyes narrowing into a pointed, warning glare. The kind that carried unspoken threats, the kind that can make anyone tremble in fear.

Then he turned back to Mirabella. Without warning, he caught her lips with his, his mouth pressing hard, claiming, demanding. His tongue pushed deep into her mouth, seeking her response.

But there was nothing. No reaction from her.

She stood stiff and frozen on the spot, her lips were soft but unmoving.

Hunter growled deep in his throat, the sound primal and full of disapproval. His hand slid under her short shirt without warning, fingers pressing firmly between her legs, finding her soft pussy. He touched her through her panties.

Mirabella gasped loudly, her eyes flying wide. She pushed weakly against his chest, her small hands trembling as she tried to get him off her.

Satisfied with her gasp but unsatisfied with her rejection, he let her go suddenly, his face hard with disapproval.

Without looking back, Mirabella turned, her legs unsteady, and followed Hilda out of the club.

She didn’t dare glance at him before he changed his mind and pulled her back.

Hunter’s eyes followed her until the doors closed. His chest burned with fire, rage and something deeper he couldn’t name.

Tobias, who had been silent all this while, stepped closer. His voice was even and calm. “Do you want me to follow them and keep an eye on her?”

Hunter’s fists flexed at his sides. He wanted to. He wanted to make sure she didn’t breathe a second without his shadow near. But he also knew she needed this.

“No,” he said finally, his tone clipped and sharp. “Let her be.”

Tobias’s brows lifted slightly, but he nodded.

Hunter stood there, battling with his mind.

The only thing she could think of at a time like this was to stay away from him? That thought seared his pride, cut his heart. He would never admit it aloud, but it made his blood boil.

He wouldn't have let her out of his sight, but only this once. She had begged. She had pleaded. And she looked like she needed this space desperately. So he gave it to her.

But this was the only space she would ever get from him, so she better enjoy it while it lasts.

He knew she would have a lot of questions for him. And the answers might shatter her young mind when she hears them.

Hunter’s chest rose with a sharp inhale, his eyes burning in the dim light of Devil’s Den.

“Enjoy it while it lasts, Bella,” he muttered under his breath. “Because after this…”