The color drains from Mira’s face, her composure cracking.
“How long have you known?” she asks.
I lean against the wall, savoring this moment. “Since I met you in the store room,” I lie, as it was after that Knox bought me the information. “Your background check was thorough.”
Her eyes widen further. “Then why?—”
“Why invite you to the Hunt?” I finish for her. “Perhaps I enjoy the game. Perhaps I wanted to see how far you’d go for your story.”
I circle her slowly, sizing her up like the prey she’s chosen to be. Her perfume fills my nostrils—light and floral.
“I know about your previous articles,” I continue. “The piece on the corrupt judge in Chicago was particularly impressive. Bold, thorough, relentless—qualities I admire, even when they’re directed at me.”
She squares her shoulders. “If you know what I’m doing here, why not just fire me?”
A laugh escapes me. “And miss all this?” I gesture between us. “The dance we’ve been doing is too entertaining to end prematurely.”
I step close enough to see the flecks of gold in her hazel eyes. “You see, Mira, I’ve been watching you watch me. Every note you’ve taken, every conversation you’ve had with my employees—I know it all.”
I can practically see her mind racing, reevaluating every interaction we’ve had, every word she’s spoken in Purgatory.
“The Hunt isn’t about the chase,” I say softly. “It’s about strategy. It’s about knowing your opponent better than they know themselves.”
I reach out and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, pleased when she flinches at the contact.
“And I know you very well, Ms. Sullivan.”
The realization that I’ve known her true purpose all along unsettles her, but she recovers. That’s another quality I admire—her resilience.
She straightens her spine, meeting my gaze with renewed determination. “You seem very confident that you’ll be the one to catch me during the Hunt,” she challenges. “There will be fourteen other men pursuing the same targets. What makes you so certain I’ll be yours?”
Her naivety is almost endearing. “Mira,” I say her name slowly, savoring each syllable. “It’s my Hunt. I designed every aspect of it. Every corridor in the maze, every rule, every contingency.” I step closer. “I know every shortcut, every dead end, every trap.”
I circle her once more. “The Hunt has been running for years, and I have never—not once—failed to catch exactly who I wanted. The other participants may think they have a chance,” I continue, “but they’re merely playing their roles in my game. The outcome was decided the moment you signed the NDA.”
I stop in front of her. “You’ll be the prey,” I promise, fingers tracing her collarbone. “And I will hunt you through every inch of my domain until you’re mine.”
Disgust flashes across Mira’s face, her nosewrinkling, brows furrowing. The change in her expression is subtle but unmistakable.
“Why would you even want to hunt women for sport?” she asks. “What kind of sick pleasure do you get from chasing terrified women?”
I can’t help but smile at her assumption. So righteous, so predictably outraged. Yet she signed the NDA. She’s coming to the Hunt regardless.
“You mistake fear for excitement,” I say. “The women who participate know exactly what they’re getting into. They crave the chase as much as we enjoy the Hunt. As for what I get from it,” I pause, deciding how much to reveal. “I have specific... tastes. The Hunt satisfies certain proclivities that aren’t easily indulged in conventional settings.”
Her eyes widen slightly.
“The thrill of pursuit, the eventual capture, the surrender—” I continue, “it creates a unique dynamic that can’t be replicated in a standard sexual encounter.”
She maintains eye contact. “And you always catch someone?”
“Always,” I confirm, remembering each previous Hunt, each successful capture. “I’m very good at getting what I want.”
“And after?” she asks.
“The rules are simple. Once captured, a woman belongs to her hunter until the next Hunt, if he chooses to claim her.” I run my finger along the wall beside her head. “Though I’ve never exercised that particular right beyond the three days of the Hunt itself.”
I study her face, noticing the sharp intelligence behind those eyes. Interest stirs within me—different from the usual anticipation before a Hunt.
