𝐋𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 ~ | 𝘔𝘢𝘹 𝘝𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯

Hunter and Hunted

~'~

Max

The morning light filtered through the blinds, cutting thin ribbons across my bedroom walls. Sleep had evaded me most of the night, not because of the hum of the city outside or the ache in my shoulders from training the day before, but because of her.

Sabrina.

Last night replayed in my mind, vivid and unrelenting. The way her voice cracked when she told me about this Lorenzo. The scars. It wasn't just the story that haunted me; it was the weight of it, the raw honesty in her eyes as she admitted what she'd spent so long pretending didn't matter.

And Lorenzo. That name rattled in my head like a loose screw. I knew it, vaguely. Like a word on the tip of my tongue. It took a few seconds to connect the dots. 

Lorenzo Silva. He works for us.

By the time I left my room to check on Sabrina, I'd already made a decision.

Her door creaked softly as I opened it, and there she was, sprawled across the bed like she'd lost a fight with the mattress. One leg was caught awkwardly in the blanket, her hair an unmanageable mess spread across the pillow. Her face was calm, at peace, and for a brief moment, it disarmed me.

I never thought I'd find someone sleeping so... chaotic and beautiful at the same time.

A smile tugged at my lips as I walked in quietly, careful not to wake her. Retrieving a glass of water from the kitchen, I set it on the nightstand with an aspirin beside it, just like she had done for me. A mirror gesture.

For someone so damn stubborn, Sabrina had this infuriating way of sneaking under your skin.

I left the room without disturbing her and made my way downstairs, the weight of the morning pressing on my chest. The car was waiting in the car park, and as I slid into the driver's seat, my mind zeroed in on the task at hand.

Lorenzo.

Anger churned inside me as I drove through the city streets, gripping the steering wheel tighter than necessary. My foot itched to press harder on the accelerator, to release some of this burning frustration.

But, alas. Laws.

By the time I arrived at the address I'd pulled, I was calmer. Not much, but enough. I reminded myself murder wasn't the solution here, as tempting as it felt.

The building was nothing special, a nondescript apartment complex tucked into a quieter part of town. I knocked on the door, trying to ignore the irrational urge to break it down instead.

When Lorenzo opened it, he looked... surprised, which was satisfying in its own way.

"Max," he said, startled but trying to mask it with a smile. "Uh, this is unexpected."

He knew who I was. Good. 

Hard not to in his line of work.

"I know," I said smoothly, offering him the same polite smile I wore at sponsorship events. "I thought I'd stop by. Wanted to put a face to the name. It's rare I don't know someone on the team."

He blinked at me, clearly confused but too flustered to question my presence. "Oh, uh, yeah, come in."

Lorenzo stepped aside, and I entered, taking in the space. It wasn't large but clean, ish, and minimal, too impersonal to feel lived in. As my eyes roamed, they caught on a glass sitting on the counter, faint red lipstick smudged along its rim.