Mike Hunt Meaning Novels & Stories

Shaking my head in embarrassment, I turned from her hungry eyes. She smiled, her teeth showing to me, and I saw what I had never seen before. “I believe you now know the answer to that. The hunt is in every person, but how we choose to use it is unique. I hunger, always, and the hunt is satisfying. But it is a like a drug, impacting every aspect of our lives. Do we hunt, or do we wait? Will there be satisfaction at the end? We seek it, constantly. Of course, though who lie in self-loathing depression are there for a reason. They've lost their hunt, and they fear they will never get it back.”

I open my hand and show my fingers as I add: "We have a plan, we have allies, and we have my great desire to hand him personally on the lap of the devil. That's all.” Hunter gives a low laugh, in that hoarse tone that makes his accent even more evident. “Right once again.” "And you have to stop acting like a big Turkish baby" I hit you lightly on the shoulder. “Seriously, Hunt, you are useful for many things. Especially to keep me alive. I need you to remain my shield. As far as you can, I can take it.” “Useful for many things? "He repeats in a low voice, his eyes scorched with a glow of malice.

He first had the window cracked, face tilting toward the moonlight. “I was thinking—maybe you should find him, and say thank you.” “It did cross my mind,” Nevena murmured, weariness in her tone. “But I’m not sure he’d agree to meet me.” “You know where he stays?” “Of course—, Mr Hunt took me to his house one time”. “Antonio Hunt—is that him?” Junior rolled to face her. “Yeah… how do you know him?” she asked, brow raised. “Everyone knows him.” He grabbed his phone and typed. “Mr. Hunt is the leading casino conglomerate in New Mexico—look.”

Most especially with something that belonged to me? It wasn’t going to be that easy for her. I would make sure I take what Is rightfully mine and she would be so sorry thinking I would be stupid enough not to notice that. “If you had started talking, you would have been done by now.” Mike said with a very serious expression plastered on his face. “It’s the bounty hunter, he said he has news about Laura and we need to meet to talk about it so that’s what I’m doing.” I said knowing fully wel Mike won’t agree to it.

Hunter was my father, the alpha who’d stood with my mother Maradona, who’d held me as a child. But Michael—his warm smile, the way he’d shielded me from the world until his last breath—had been my father too, in every way that mattered. If Hunter was my blood, then who was Michael? A protector? A friend? A lie? The thought twisted like a blade, sharp and relentless.

I placed both my palms on the table, rubbed it over the map in a circular motion and whispered loudly. "Hunt doesn't live in the woods, he only Hunts us in there. We need to find his house address." "Yeah, then we get every information about him from his house. Hunt is very dangerous and cunning, but catching him off guard is a lot reasonable," Michael added with a sneer. It was his turn to keep his eyes fixed on me. "Then how do we get his house address?" Rosa questioned curiously. This was where the main problem and lots of work lied. We need enough information about Hunt from someone who knows him like Alpha Hermes.

Hunt was running his mouth in the ward. Old Mrs. Hunt echoed her husband’s opinion. All she could think of was to get out of the hospital and give the granddaughters an earful or two. The whole family came together at the hospital, cramming in the ward as they discussed their next plans. Mike was all over the place. His friends were bitter that Mike twisted the story and put them in a difficult position. A few of his friends wanted to cut ties with Mike, claiming he was a terrible human being. “What do we do now, Mike?” Mike’s father asked. “I read the comments. It’s not looking good for us. How did the public manage to dig out information on our jobs and incomes?”

, Alex asked. “It’s less than what a palace should be, but it’s at the other edge of the town.”, Mike explained as they manipulated their way among the haggard-looking citizens. He felt a surge of emotions when a young toddler sough for food in a trash can. It was no place for a living being, he thought as he wondered the state Sherlyn might be. They exited the market and crossed a tiny road with moving carts and carriages. They took cover at the sight of horses as they passed. “They’re hunters”, Mike explained, “it’s easy to recognize me because I’ve been initiated as one of the master’s servants”.

I couldn't sleep; I kept tossing, turning and thinking about the events of the previous day and the fact that I had to marry a Capo, whatever that meant I remembered when I came across a post on Mace Hunter. It was actually the first time I heard about him; the media described him as one of the most sought-after bachelors in New York and the Heir to Hunter's global company. If only they knew the real Mace Hunter like I have known him these few days. Maybe they will stop reporting lies.

I doubt any of us would wish to know the outcome. “You did,” Miles argued, sitting on Mitch's desk. “What did the hunter want from you? Any lead?” I questioned, looking towards Mike, who hadn't said a word since he stepped into the room. He sighed at the question, walking over to his chair. I watched him, waiting for an answer the others didn't provide since I asked Mike, not them.