MAFIA'S WRONG TARGET

22: WHISPERS OF PAIN

HUNTER'S POV

Hunter's basement,
10:13 p.m.

I scooped the girl up in my arms, carrying her out of the hall like she was a feather as if I were lifting a ten-year-old. She clung to me tightly, her body was trembling with a mix of fear and vulnerability.

I had never witnessed her like this before, not even after pushing her to her limits. The sight of her shaking made me hold her tighter. As I stepped outside, one of my bouncers opened the car door for us.

I bent down gently, placing her in the backseat, but she resisted letting go of my coat. Her fists were clenched, holding on with a desperate grip as if she feared the world outside. The intensity of her emotions was palpable, and in that moment, I realized how deeply she needed someone to hold her.

She was too panicked to hear me, her breath was coming in shallow gasps. I slipped my thumb under her fist, gently loosening her grip, but it felt like she was holding on as if her life depended on it. Her hand felt so small against my palm, almost dwarfed by its size.

Her eyes darted around, searching for something to anchor her, but all she found was my steady gaze. Her eyes were red and swollen, reflecting a storm of emotions- fear, confusion, and a hint of vulnerability. She tried to form words, but they tumbled out as incoherent wobbles, a testament to her disarray.

Her shaky hand pointed toward the basement as if trying to complain as if trying to tell me that they had wronged her. Her eyes began to stream tears again.

I released my hand and reached for a water bottle from the front seat, opening it with one hand while still holding onto her. I could feel the warmth radiating from her, a stark contrast to the chill in the air, and it made me realize just how fragile she was in that moment.

"Drink up," I encouraged, bringing the bottle to her lips.

She grabbed it with both hands, her fingers trembling as she desperately drank the water. I could see her throat moving with each frantic gulp, the water slipping down as she tried to quench a thirst that seemed to stem from more than just her parched throat. I steadied her grip on the bottle, ensuring she wouldn't spill it.

As soon as the bottle was pulled away from her lips, she panted heavily, the sound filled with a mix of relief and lingering fear. Her body was still shaking, and I could sense the weight of her emotions pressing down on her, making her feel even more vulnerable.

I don't know but I provided her the warmth she was craving, reassured her that she wasn't alone in this moment.

The most human thing she got me doing to date.

I felt my shirt drenching with her tears. I stayed still until her body seemed to relax. I withdrew from her and removed my coat to drape it over her, aware of the biting cold that caused visible condensation with each breath she took. She was already battling the chill, her teeth were scattering.

After closing the door, I made my way to the driver's seat, starting the engine as I directed the car toward our destination.

I was seething with anger at my men. Those m*therf*ckers dared to defy my rules, and it infuriated me.

As I glanced in the rearview mirror, my gaze fell upon the small figure in the backseat, all curled up in my coat.

She appeared utterly disoriented, seemingly unaware of her surroundings. Her eyes flickered nervously, lacking control over her body and mind at that moment. She couldn't even focus her gaze properly.

Usually, I enjoy these kinds of sights but not at that moment. Yes, I was the one who promised to show her vulnerability but not like this.

"F*ck!"