Page 117 of Hunt Me

The SUV merges onto the highway, putting distance between us and the Federal Building. My mind races through possibilities, algorithms of manipulation, and strategic advantage.

“Kendall’s deadline gives us a framework,” I continue. “But we control the content. Each segment reveals exactly what serves our interests.”

“Nothing more, nothing less,” Nikolai finishes.

Iris hasn’t spoken since we left the Federal Building.

Her fingers twist in her lap, a rare tell of anxiety she normally suppresses. I cover her hands with mine, stilling the restless movement.

“Talk to me.”

“I almost got us killed.” Her voice emerges small, defeated. “If Jenkins had been faster?—”

“He wasn’t.” I squeeze her fingers. “And Erik was.”

“That’s not the point.” She pulls away, hugging herself. “I stood up in a room full of federal agents and basically admitted to everything. What if they’d decided to arrest us right there? What if?—”

“You were magnificent.”

The words stop her mid-spiral. She blinks at me, confusion replacing panic.

“You spoke truth to power.” I cup her face, forcing her to meet my eyes. “You made them listen. Made themseewhat they’ve become.”

“I risked your family?—”

“You gave us the upper hand.” Nikolai’s voice carries from the front seat. “Those agents’ faces when you mentioned their children? That was the moment we won.”

“He’s right,” Dmitri adds. “You shifted the narrative from criminal extortion to moral accountability. Completely different playing field.”

Iris shakes her head, still not convinced. “I should have stayed quiet. Let you negotiate?—”

“No.” I tilt her chin up. “You said what needed saying. WhatIneeded to hear.”

Her eyebrows draw together. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve been treating this like a game.” The admission tastes bitter. “Another puzzle to solve, another system to crack. But you reminded me why we’re doing this.”

“Revenge?” she whispers.

“Justice.” I brush my thumb across her cheekbone. “For your parents. For everyone Sentinel has destroyed.”

Tears well in her eyes, but she doesn’t let them fall. “I’m scared.”

“Good.” I pull her against my chest, breathing in her scent. “Fear means you’re smart enough to recognize the danger. But you’re also brave enough to fight anyway.”

She burrows closer, fingers clutching my shirt. “Don’t let me go.”

“Never.” The promise settles in my bones, absolute as code. “You’re mine, Iris Mitchell. And I protect what’s mine.”

Her breath hitches. “I love you.”

The words pierce through my chest, settling somewhere deep and permanent.

“I love you too.”

Her face tilts up, those ice-blue eyes wide with something like wonder. Like she can’t quite believe I’d say it back, even though I told her days ago in my penthouse.

I don’t wait for her response. My mouth claims hers, swallowing whatever words she might have offered. She melts against me, fingers tangling in my hair with desperate urgency.