Page 122 of Haunted

“He really did that?” My voice comes out smaller than intended.

Cora nods. “He was... scary about it. Cold. Said if they so much as left a bruise on me that I didn't explicitly ask for, they'd answer to him personally.”

Tears prick at my eyes. Xavier kept his promise. Not only did he check on her, but he arranged this meeting so I could see for myself that she's okay.

“How... how does it even work?” I ask, leaning forward. “Three men and you?”

Cora laughs, a genuine sound I wasn't sure I'd hear again after everything. “It's not exactly conventional.” She takes another sip of her latte. “They have this massive bed—had to be custom-made to fit all four of us. It's comfortable.”

“All four of you sleep together? Every night?”

“Every night.” A blush spreads across her cheeks. “And the men—they don't only focus on me. They play with each other too, which is...” She fans herself dramatically. “Let me tell you, watching Dominic and Liam together is possibly the hottest thing I've ever seen.”

I nod slowly, a flush creeping up my neck as I remember the Hunt—specifically watching Julian and Elliot together the first time. Theway Julian had commanded Elliot, reducing that powerful man to desperate pleas and moans.

“I get it,” I admit. “During the Hunt, I saw Julian with Elliot. It was...” I pause, searching for the right word, “...intoxicating. The power exchange, the raw need. I couldn't look away.”

Cora's eyes widen with understanding. “Exactly! Now imagine that energy but with three men, and they all want you.” She leans closer. “Dominic is all about control. Liam challenges me intellectually before he even touches me. And Ryder...” She bites her lip. “Ryder somehow makes it all feel like a game we're all winning.”

I try to picture it—three powerful men, focused on Cora, yet also on each other. The complex dance of desire between four people, rather than two. The possibilities seem endless, overwhelming in the best possible way.

“And when they touch each other?” I ask, genuinely curious now.

“It's like they're performing for me,” Cora says, her pupils dilating slightly at whatever memory is playing in her mind.

I take a sip of my coffee, trying to cool the heat spreading through me. “I never thought I'd be having this conversation,” I say with a nervous laugh.

“And they've been different since the Hunt ended,” Cora continues. “Gentler sometimes. More caring. Like they're showing me different sides of themselves.”

“Really?”

“Especially Ryder.” Her expression softens. “He's alwaysbeen the more sensitive one. And he loves being dominated too, which creates this... connection between us. We understand each other in a way the others don't quite get yet.”

I reach for her hand. “Are you happy, Cora? Truly?”

Cora squeezes my hand back. “I am happy, in a way I didn't expect to be. But...” Her expression clouds, and she stares down at her coffee. “I don't know how I'll ever face my dad again. Or if I can.”

“He was there,” I say quietly, remembering Mayor Pike's horrified face when he saw his daughter with three men.

Cora nods, her eyes growing distant. “He's called me twenty-seven times since that night. Texted even more.” She pulls out her phone, showing me the screen filled with notifications. “He keeps leaving voicemails asking if I'm okay, if I'm being held against my will, if there's anything he can do.”

“Have you talked to him at all?”

She shakes her head, putting her phone face down on the table. “I'm too ashamed, Mira. What do I even say? 'Hey Dad, sorry you had to watch me get fucked by three men who hate you, but guess what—I'm enjoying it now'?”

“He loves you,” I say gently. “He wants to know you're safe.”

“That's the thing,” Cora replies, tracing the rim of her coffee cup with her finger. “I am safe. Dominic, Liam, and Ryder—they're treating me well. Better than well. But how do I explain that to my father? How do I tell himthat the men who used me to hurt him are now...” She trails off, searching for words.

“Making you happy?” I offer.

“Yes.” She meets my eyes, vulnerability written across her face. “What kind of daughter does that make me? Choosing my father's enemies over him?”

I reach for her hand again. “It makes you human, Cora. Complicated, conflicted, and human.”

“Every time my phone rings with his number, my stomach turns inside out.” Tears well in her eyes. “I can't bring myself to answer, but I can't bring myself to block him either. I'm just... stuck.”

I squeeze Cora's hand, struck by a sudden idea. “Why don't you text him right now?”