Chapter Four

Three Years Later

“I said play with your tits, give me a show.”

"Hunter... please. I can't take it anymore. Just touch me."

Jackie’s voice trembled, breathy and eager like a wanton. Her knees pressed against the edge of his obsidian desk as she sat on his desk. Her red lips were slightly parted, pupils blown wide with hunger as she caressed, pinched and tugged at her nipples with her clothes still on. She knew what she was asking for.

Hunter leaned back in his leather chair, the dim city lights behind him outlining his sharp silhouette like a dark god in a throne. The button of his crisp black shirt strained across his broad chest as he slowly rolled up his sleeves. One brow arched lazily. He liked making people wait. Especially when they begged so much.

"You've been dropping temptation for weeks, you whore, haven't you? You came here with your father for the first time wearing almost nothing, and now you wore that silk red blouse just for this, didn't you? The one that clings to your big tits like it was sewn onto your skin? To seduce me, huh?."

She nodded shamelessly, her breathing hitching as his eyes dragged over her body and lingering a little over her D-cup breast. Her nipples were hard through the sheer fabric, and her thighs pressed together like she was trying to suppress the ache growing between them.

"You know who I am," he murmured, standing. His voice was smooth, unhurried, deep enough to make her shiver. "You know what it means to be touched by me. Once I start, I don't stop until I’m finished, no matter how much you beg."

Jackie licked her lips. "That's exactly what I want."

He was on her in three steps, crowding her, tilting her chin up roughly and cruelly. Power rolled off him like thunder, and she trembled beneath it.

His mouth was hot and brutal on hers, all possession and none of the softness. His hand slipped under her skirt, fingers grazing her inner thigh, testing how wet she already was. A low dark chuckle rumbled in his throat.

"Soaked. Just for me, hmm. Just like a fucking slut."

He carried her down from the table, turned her around and bent her over the desk. He removed his belt, opened his fly and removed his hardness. He was big and the veins on his shaft were protruding and pulsing with want. His finger pushed her panties to the side. Hunter fisted her hair in his hand, drew her head back and, without warning, he shoved his hard cock into her already dripping pussy. Her breath caught, and she screamed from the impact and the sudden pain she felt at that instant. His fingers tangled in her hair.

"Keep your eyes open and your mouth shut. I want you to remember this every time your daddy shakes my hand at the negotiation table."

"Oh god… please, slow… dow.. Ahhh,” she moaned in pleasure and pleaded in pain. 

He didn’t make love. He only consumes. His satisfaction is all that matters.

He kept going, ramming into her with so much strength. Pushing in and pulling out. His every thrust is a reminder and declaration of his robust masculinity. She screamed, as he gave a painful bite to her ear. Her body was taking it all. She has to.

And when she cried out beneath him from a mind-blowing orgasm, all slick heat and shaking limbs and knees, Hunter’s expression didn’t change. He continued drilling her pussy from behind. 

He rolled his eyes because she was making so many sounds that he so much wanted to use a cloth and tie her mouth to shut her up, but that would only interrupt his ride. 

He kept on going, taking his own pleasure from her body. That was why she was there. To satisfy his needs.

After twenty minutes of his monster ride, before he poured his cream inside her, he removed his dick from her pussy, grabbed her by the hair and pushed her down on her knees without a word, he pushed his full cock inside her mouth, and he shot his hot cum deep down her throat. She was gagging but made sure she swallowed every cum he released and licked him clean. When he was done, he straightened his sleeves and adjusted his pants. He left her gasping like he’d just burned through her and walked away without looking back.

"That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?" he murmured. 

"Get the fuck out, bitch." 

Jackie left happily, not fully dressed with her heels in hand. Nothing mattered to her anymore. She'd been noticed by Hunter; that was what mattered.

***

Mirabella's POV

The first thing I felt when I stepped off that plane in Atlanta was dread and then grief and then emptiness.

Four years away and the city still smelled the same—summer heat, asphalt, and something bitter underneath, like printed memories clinging to the sidewalks. I hadn’t been back since I left. Since David’s death. When Hilda called me, voice shaking, to say he was gone and had left only one request: Never confront Hunter Groves.

But here I was. Back to Atlanta. 

“I thought it would feel different,” I murmured.

Aria slid her sunglasses off as we stood outside the terminal. “Because you are older? Or because this city ate your entire soul and left crumbs?”

I cracked the faintest smile. “Well, maybe both.”

She bumped my shoulder with hers. “You’re strong now, Bella. Atlanta’s just a place. It doesn’t get to decide or define who you are anymore or who you become.”

Maybe she was right. Maybe. But my chest still ached.

The black hundies car Hilda sent pulled up. I’d only exchanged emails with her recently—she had promised to help us settle until Aria and I secured the apartment we’d applied online for downtown. We were here for a fresh start.

Get a job, plan our lives. And just live.

I looked out the window as the driver pulled into the heart of the city. Every street was a memory I didn’t ask for. My parents’ car crash. My brother’s weird final letter. That night he told me not to worry, that the debts were paid, and how he never said how.

And then the silence, the void. The damn email and phone call.

“You okay?” Aria asked quietly.

I blinked. “Yeah. I'm just tired.”

We arrived at Hilda’s place on the north side, very quiet and warm enough that it felt like a shield from the mess outside. We rang the bell and Hilda opened the door within seconds in a long green cardigan and black jeans, her brown curly hair tied up. She pulled me in a very tight hug, tighter than I expected.

“I’m so glad you came back, Bella,” she said softly. “David wouldn't be happy you came back, but your life is here, in this city. You will be fine.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Thanks for letting us stay, Hilda. And, of course, you know Aria, my roommate in school.”

“Of course darling. Aria, your room is the second to the right. Mira, yours is across the hall. Settle in. We’ll talk tomorrow. But tonight, just breathe, okay?”

I nodded and followed the scent of lavender to my room.

When I closed the door, I pressed my back against it and exhaled for what felt like the first time in centuries. I looked around the small room, the soft bed, the pale blue curtains, the light spilled in like it wasn’t hiding anything.

But I knew so much was in the dark.

This city was hiding everything.

Hunter Groves, that devil was still out there. Alive, breathing.

And still very dangerous.

And I didn’t know if I should run—or set his whole world on fire.