Chapter 35 35
The moment Fernando stepped into his house, all he wanted was to pull her into his arms.
But something was wrong.
A sharp unease twisted in his gut.
He strode quickly down the hallway toward his room and unlocked the door
Empty.
“Fuck!” he shouted, his gaze snapping to the bed.
It had been dragged out of place.
A bundle of cloth was knotted tightly around its leg, disappearing out the open window.
He rushed over and leaned out.
Another curse tore from his lips when he saw how short the pathetic rope was.
He yanked it back inside.
Ruined fabric pooled at his feet.
His expensive shirts.
Shredded.
Has she lost her damn mind?
Within minutes he was back in his car, speeding toward her apartment.
His eyes flicked to his bruised knuckles.
Miguel’s battered body was still locked in his trunk where he’d left him.
Someone might’ve found him by now.
But none of that mattered.
Right now, only Ana mattered.
What kind of idiot ran off like this?
At this hour?
Her place was far from his.
She didn’t even have money.
How was she supposed to get there?
A terrible feeling coiled tighter in his chest.
Something was very, very wrong.
“Dammit!”
He pushed the car faster.
Soon he reached her street.
Parking a little distance away, he stepped out.
His eyes immediately noticed something off
The thugs weren’t in their usual spot.
A cold shiver ran down his spine.
Then
Her scream cut through the night.
Fernando broke into a run.
The apartment gate was locked.
One brutal kick sent it crashing open.
What he saw inside snapped the last thread of his sanity.
Sofía was pinned to the floor.
Two bastards were restraining her arms and legs.
A third was on top of her.
The fourth sat casually on the couch, phone flash on.
Recording.
Something feral tore loose inside him.
Fernando charged.
The man on top of her was sent flying across the room, smashing into the wall.
The scorpion-faced thug sprang up to attack
But Hunter surged forward.
Golden light swirled through Fernando’s pupils, blazing with death.
The man swung a punch.
Fernando caught him by the throat.
A sickening crack echoed.
The body dropped lifelessly to the floor.
Sofía was barely conscious, struggling weakly against Rafael’s grip.
The man with the phone hurled it onto the couch and rushed Fernando from behind.
Fernando spun and punched him with brutal force.
His neck snapped instantly.
He collapsed, limbs jerking as he suffocated, dying within moments.
“Get your filthy hands off her,” Fernando snarled.
Rafael froze.
His breath hitched when he met those glowing golden eyes.
He released Sofía and lunged at Fernando
Too slow.
Fernando drove his fist into his stomach.
His claws tore through flesh.
Grabbing hold, he ripped violently.
Rafael’s eyes widened in horror as blood poured from his mouth.
He dropped to his knees.
Then face-first to the floor.
The first man Fernando had thrown into the wall stared at the corpses of his friends in terror.
When his eyes landed back on Fernando, he knew.
He was dead.
He ran.
Fernando grabbed him by the back of the neck and yanked him back.
The man swung wildly, punching Fernando in the face.
Fernando didn’t even blink.
He bared a savage wolfish grin.
The thug trembled.
He raised his fist again
Fernando crushed it.
Bones snapped loudly.
The man screamed.
Fernando grabbed the other wrist and shattered that too.
“No one touches what’s mine,” he growled.
With a violent twist
The man’s neck turned unnaturally.
His body collapsed with a heavy thud.
Silence fell.
Fernando’s hands trembled with leftover rage, soaked red and bruised.
Slowly, his claws retracted.
His eyes faded back to green.
His feet carried him instinctively toward the bedroom.
There
Sofía was curled into a tiny ball in the corner, hiding behind a chair.
His chest tightened painfully.
He hated the feeling clawing through him.
Slowly, carefully, he approached.
The soft sound of footsteps made her flinch violently.
A sob ripped from her throat.
“P-please… d-don’t h-hurt me…”
He dropped to his knees in front of her instantly.
But she only cried harder and crawled farther beneath the table.
His gaze fell to her foot.
Purple.
Swollen.
Her ankle badly bruised.
“Ana…” he whispered softly, a tenderness he didn’t know he possessed filling his voice.
Her head lifted slowly.
She peeked at him through trembling lashes.
Blood streaked her forehead.
Red fingerprints marked her cheek.
Blood trickled from the corner of her lip.
Rage roared back through him.
He wanted them alive again
Just so he could kill them slower.
More painfully.
“Doll,” he murmured gently, opening his arms as though approaching a frightened child who might bolt at any second.
The fear and mistrust in her eyes sliced straight through him.
“I won’t hurt you,” he whispered.
Tears welled in her eyes.
But she didn’t move.
Didn’t reach for him.
Didn’t trust him.
And in that moment
Fernando realized something that crushed him.
To her…
He was no different from the monsters who’d touched her.