MAFIA'S WRONG TARGET

38: BORN A WEAPON

HUNTER'S POV

Kingland,
04:09 am

I lit a cigarette and leaned against the wall, smoking in silence until her sobs finally faded. Hours after the screaming and the curses she hurled at me, I heard her retreat to her room, leaving the house heavy with the aftermath of it all.

The night stretched longer than any I could remember. Somewhere along the way, I had forgotten that the sun would rise—that daylight wouldn’t change a thing. And yet, when it did, it changed more than I expected.

I went to the docks where ships were unloading machinery. Kevin was there, overseeing the forest-side industrial operations, managing incoming shipments and logistics with practiced efficiency. I won’t deny it—he’s good at what he does. His only flaw is growing too comfortable, even around those who outrank him.

There was too much to handle on no sleep at all. I barely ate, keeping myself occupied to avoid thinking, but her screams found their way back into my head regardless—every word striking like a needle pressed into bare skin.

By golden hour, I found myself back in the backyard. The world was washed in yellow light, yet thick, smoky clouds hung overhead, poised to steal whatever brightness remained.

Then I heard something that stopped me in my tracks. I could have ignored it, but something about the sound drew me in. Soft giggles—light, almost blissful—floated through the still air. Without realizing it, I moved closer, my boots crunching against the gravel path. My ears followed the sound before my eyes did, leading me to the stables, dimly lit by the final breath of twilight.

There she was-her forehead resting gently against the broad head of a chestnut horse, fingers stroking its muzzle like she'd known it forever.

It was dreamy yet caught me off guard.

This girl flinched at sudden footsteps, startled at the clink of silverware. And yet, here she was, inches from a towering animal, whispering something only it could hear.

For a second, the image didn't make sense. I almost forgot that she's a country side girl.

My thoughts collided with the reality in front of me.

The horse neighed-sharp and abrupt. She stumbled back instinctively, her body colliding with mine. Her gasp was audible, followed by a startled turn as she whipped around to face me. But just as her eyes lifted to meet mine-

-everything went dark.

The power had cut out. Again. Normal for us but not for her.

The storm hadn't arrived yet, but the horses had sensed it coming. Restless hooves, nervous snorts-it was all there, as always, before the clouds fully gather.

She stood still, frozen, her hand instinctively gripping my arm as thunder rolled overhead. Her eyes lifted toward the sky, wide and searching. Lightning split across the clouds above us, briefly illuminating her face in stark clarity. Her features-soft, uncertain-were framed by damp hair as the first drops of rain began to fall.

The solar lights around the mansion flickered to life, weak and unreliable. Out here in the stable, they barely lit the path, and with the island still under construction, it was anyone's guess how long they'd last.

The generators still left to install and the batteries are weak in terms of supplying enough electricity all around the island.

I realised that she hadn't moved away. Not yet.

I looked at her then. Really looked. Her eyes-usually guarded-now betrayed a flicker of something raw. Not fear of me, but of the dark, of the sudden silence, of not knowing what waited just outside the flickering reach of the light.