Page 11 of Hunted to the Altar (Caputo Crime Family #3)

CHAPTER EIGHT

N ina

The world outside the penthouse windows seemed far away, almost dreamlike.

The city lights stretched endlessly, blinking and flickering against the darkness, a life I used to be part of but no longer recognized.

The surrounding room, so meticulously organized and coldly perfect, felt like a cage. A luxurious, suffocating cage.

Samuel’s words still echoed in my ears, loud and unrelenting.

"You need to carry my name. Marry me."

I hugged my knees to my chest, sitting on the couch that somehow felt too big and too small all at once.

My mind was spinning, replaying everything that had happened since he’d taken me from my apartment.

From the moment he’d revealed himself, every shred of normalcy I’d clung to had been torn away.

Now he was asking—no, demanding—that I become his wife as if my life hadn’t already been turned into a nightmare .

“No,” I whispered into the quiet room, though no one could hear me. The word felt hollow, meaningless. My choices had been stripped away one by one until I had nothing left but the illusion of resistance.

I couldn’t stay in this moment of weakness.

I had to fight, even if I didn’t know how.

But I was exhausted. Physically. Mentally.

Emotionally. The weight of everything—the threats, the fear, the constant vigilance—it was too much.

And Samuel, in all his dark, predatory intensity, was both the source of my torment and the only thing keeping me alive.

I hated that he made me feel this way. Conflicted. Torn. Helpless.

The faint sound of footsteps broke my spiral.

I froze, my breath catching in my throat as Samuel entered the room.

His presence filled the space instantly, heavy and inescapable.

He said nothing at first, just stood there with his piercing blue eyes locked on me.

The tension between us was palpable, crackling like a live wire.

“Still sulking?” His voice was calm, almost teasing, but there was an edge to it that made my skin prickle.

I forced myself to sit up straighter, refusing to let him see how much he was getting to me. “You can’t be serious about this,” I said, my voice sharper than I intended. “Marriage? That’s your solution?”

“It’s the only solution,” he said simply, as if that was the end of the conversation.

I stood, needing to put some distance between us. “You’re insane if you think I’m going to agree to this. You’ve already taken everything from me—my home, my freedom, my sense of safety—and now you want to take my name, too?”

Samuel moved closer, his steps slow and deliberate. His presence was magnetic, drawing me in even as I tried to retreat. “This isn’t about taking something from you, Nina. It’s about giving you something you desperately need—protection. ”

I laughed bitterly, though there was no humor in it. “Protection? From what? You? Or the people you’ve dragged into my life?”

He stopped just a few feet away, his gaze dark and unyielding. “From the Picones. From anyone who believes they could use you to hurt me or mia famiglia . Carrying my name makes you untouchable under mafia law. No one would dare harm the wife of a Caputo.”

The weight of his words settled heavily in the pit of my stomach.

He wasn’t lying—I could see that in his eyes.

The sincerity was pouring off of him, but maybe he was a psychopath, maybe I couldn’t really read him as well as I thought.

I didn’t know for sure. But these thoughts didn’t make what he was saying any less horrifying.

“And what happens to me after?” I asked, my voice quieter now. “What happens when I’m no longer useful to you?”

Samuel’s jaw tightened, his expression hardening. “You think I’d throw you away like some pawn on a chessboard?”

“Wouldn’t you?” The words slipped out before I could stop them. “Isn’t that what this is all about? Control? Power? You don’t care about me—you care about winning.”

He closed the distance between us in a single stride, his hand gripping my chin firmly but not painfully.

His eyes bored into mine, blazing with a mixture of anger and something deeper, something I couldn’t name.

“If I didn’t care about you, Nina, you’d already be dead.

Don’t mistake my methods for indifference. ”

His words sent a shiver down my spine, and I hated how my body reacted to him, how my skin prickled under his touch.

He was so close, his scent—clean, sharp, with a hint of something smokey—wrapping around me like a vice.

My heart pounded in my chest, and for a moment, I thought he might kiss me.

The thought both terrified and thrilled me, and I hated myself for the latter because like hell I wanted to kiss a smoker .

Instead, he released me and stepped back, his expression unreadable. “Listen to me,” he said, his voice softer now but no less commanding. “This marriage would be in name only. A convenience. Nothing more.”

A convenient lie he was trying to sell me. I didn’t trust him. Something told me there was more to this than what he was letting on.

I frowned, suspicion flickering through me. “What does that even mean?”

His eyes flashed, sending me on high alert. He was hiding something from me.

“It means there would be rules,” he replied. “Clear boundaries. You would remain here, under my protection, and no one would touch you. Not even me, unless you wanted it.”

My stomach churned at the implication, but I forced myself to focus. “And these rules?”

Samuel nodded, stepping closer again. “First, you would never leave this penthouse without me. It’s not safe out there, Nina. The Sicilian Mafia has eyes everywhere, and I won’t risk you falling into their hands.”

I crossed my arms over my chest, my defiance a shield. “Anything else?”

“You would be free to live your life here as you see fit,” he continued, his tone calculated, almost businesslike. “You’d have access to everything you need. Comfort. Security. Freedom within these walls. But you’d remain under my watch.”

“So, a gilded cage,” I muttered.

“A fortress,” he corrected, his gaze piercing. “And in return, you’d carry my name. It would shield you from threats and give you protection no one else can offer. It’s not ideal, I know that. But it’s necessary.”

I hated how logical he made it sound, how he stripped away every argument I could think of until I was left with nothing but grim acceptance. He was right. I knew he was right. But that didn’t make it any easier to swallow.

“And what happens if I refuse?” I asked quietly, my voice barely more than a whisper.

Samuel’s expression darkened, his jaw tightening. “Then you’d be unprotected. A target. And I can’t promise you’d survive long enough to regret it.”

The finality in his tone sent a chill down my spine. He wasn’t making an empty threat—he was stating a fact. My hands trembled slightly as I looked away, unable to meet his gaze any longer.

“What about children?” I blurted out suddenly, the thought hitting me like a freight train. My voice was shaky, but I held my ground. “What if this arrangement… leads to that?”

Samuel didn’t hesitate. “If we have a child, they will carry my name. That is non-negotiable. You would never take them from me. Ever.”

I shook my head, panic rising in my chest. “That’s not fair. I’m not—I don’t want?—”

“It doesn’t matter what you want, Nina,” he interrupted, his tone unyielding. “If you think you could run from me with my heir, you’re mistaken. There would be no hiding, no escaping. Do you understand me?”

I clenched my fists, tears stinging my eyes. “You’re a monster, and I’ll make sure to never miss a pill.”

His eyes flashed dangerously. “Maybe I am,” he breathed, his voice softer now but no less terrifying. “But I’m the monster keeping you alive. And if it means ensuring my child’s safety, I’ll be whatever I need to be.”

The weight of his words settled heavily on my chest, suffocating me. I had no choice. I never had a choice. Samuel had ensured that from the moment he entered my life. And now, I was trapped, bound to him by circumstances I couldn’t control.

He took a step closer, his voice dropping to a level that made my stomach twist. “I’ll give you twenty-four hours to think about your future, Nina.

I’m gracious like that. Use the time wisely.

But let me make one thing clear—this isn’t a negotiation.

When the clock runs out, you’ll marry me.

Because if you don’t, I will become your worst nightmare. ”

I wanted to argue, to scream at him, but the look in his eyes silenced me. He wasn’t bluffing. Samuel hasn’t bluffed yet. He would force my hand if he had to, and we both knew it.

When he finally left the room, the weight of his presence lingered like a shadow, pressing down on my chest. I curled up tighter on the couch, my mind racing with thoughts I couldn’t control.

The thought of becoming Samuel’s wife was horrifying, but the alternative—being left to the mercy of his enemies—was unthinkable.

I let my head fall back against the couch, staring at the stark white ceiling above me. Time felt warped, dragging, and speeding up all at once. Each second that ticked by seemed louder than the last, like a countdown I couldn’t escape.

What kind of life was this? Could I call that surviving? Or was it just another kind of captivity? I didn’t know, and the not knowing clawed at my mind like a feral thing.

I glanced at the clock on the wall. Two hours had passed.

Or maybe it had been two lifetimes. The weight of the decision Samuel had forced upon me was like a vice around my chest, squeezing tighter with each passing minute.

Every thought, every scenario I imagined ended the same way—with me saying yes.

Because what choice did I really have? None.

I could leave. No, that was a lie. I couldn’t leave. The mafia would find me faster than I could run. And even if they didn’t, Samuel would. He’d said as much. He would never let me go. Not truly.

The thought made me shudder. I stood, pacing the room to burn off the nervous energy thrumming through my body.

The windows drew my attention again, the city below looking like another world entirely.

How many people down there were living their lives, completely unaware of the battles being fought just above them? Battles like mine.

I closed my eyes, my fists clenching at my sides. If there was a way out of this, I couldn’t see it. All I could see was the inevitability of it all. Twenty-four hours from now, I would be Samuel’s wife. And there was nothing I could do to change that.

When I sat back down, I let the tears fall silently, soaking into the pristine fabric of the couch. For the first time, I allowed myself to mourn the life I’d lost. The life I’d never get back. Because no matter what happened next, nothing would ever be the same again.