Page 17 of Hunted to the Altar (Caputo Crime Family #3)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

N ina

The morning sunlight streamed through the window, casting long beams of golden light across the penthouse floor.

It was the kind of beautiful, serene morning that mocked everything festering inside me.

I stood near the edge of the window, one hand gripping the cold glass as my eyes scanned the world outside.

Freedom. It felt like a foreign concept now, one that dangled just out of reach. My chest tightened as I thought of how things had spiraled. I wasn’t just a prisoner in this luxurious cage—I was trapped in a game I didn’t even know the rules of.

Samuel had disappeared early in the morning without a word. His absence should have felt like a relief, but it left me uneasy. It wasn’t like him to leave me unmonitored for long. The thought alone made my skin crawl. Was I actually beginning to notice his patterns? To expect his moves ?

I hated that my mind had adapted so quickly to him. Hated that a part of me even cared where he’d gone.

The sharp knock on the door startled me out of my thoughts.

My heart leapt into my throat, pounding violently as I turned toward the sound.

Before I could react, the door opened, and one of Samuel’s men stepped in.

He was large, broad-shouldered, and had a face that told you he wouldn’t hesitate to break bones if ordered.

"Mrs. Caputo," he said, his tone respectful but firm. "Samuel sent me to monitor you until he returns."

I stiffened at the name, my cheeks heating with a mix of anger and embarrassment. "Don’t call me that," I said. "It’s Nina. Just Nina."

He nodded, but his expression didn’t change. "Of course, Mrs. Caputo."

I glared at him, but it was useless. They would not stop.

To them, I wasn’t just Nina anymore. I was someone’s possession, someone’s wife, in name, if nothing else.

The thought made bile rise in my throat, but I forced it down and turned back toward the window, dismissing him with my silence.

He seemed content to linger near the door, his presence a reminder that Samuel’s reach extended even in his absence.

The hours crawled by like molasses. I busied myself with reading a book I’d found in the study, though the words blurred together on the page.

Every sound, every creak of the floorboards, had me flinching.

Anxiety curled in my gut, tight and unforgiving.

Something felt wrong, even though I couldn’t put my finger on it.

By the time the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, I was a bundle of raw nerves. I’d almost convinced myself that my paranoia was unfounded—a byproduct of everything I’d been through—when Samuel finally returned.

He stepped into the penthouse with the confidence that turned heads. His tailored suit was immaculate, not a hair out of place, and yet there was a storm brewing in his eyes. I could feel it even before he spoke.

"Pack a bag," he ordered, his voice curt and sharp enough to cut.

I blinked, surprised. "What?"

Samuel’s gaze locked onto mine, and for a moment, I swore I saw a flicker of something—concern, maybe—beneath the mask he wore. "I said, pack a bag. We’re leaving."

Panic rose in my chest like a tidal wave. "Why? What’s going on?"

"There’s no time for questions, Nina," he snapped, his tone brooking no argument. "Just do as I say."

My fingers trembled as I turned toward the bedroom, his presence a heavy weight at my back. The air between us was thick with unspoken tension, but I didn’t dare push him further. Not when he looked like a man ready to blow.

The drive was tense and silent, the low hum of the car’s engine the only sound.

Samuel sat beside me, his posture rigid and his jaw clenched.

I kept my eyes fixed on the passing city lights, my mind racing with questions I didn’t dare voice.

Wherever we were going, he didn’t intend to tell me until he was ready.

When we finally arrived, the sight that greeted me made my stomach churn.

It was an unassuming building on the outskirts of the city, the place you’d overlook if you weren’t specifically looking for it.

Samuel’s men were already there, standing guard with grim expressions that only added to my unease.

"Inside," Samuel said, his hand resting on the small of my back as he guided me forward. The touch was firm, possessive, and impossible to ignore.

The interior was cold and sterile, a stark contrast to the lavish penthouse I’d grown used to. Samuel’s men flanked us as we walked through dimly lit hallways, their presence both reassuring and suffocating.

"What is this place?" I finally asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Samuel didn’t answer immediately, his focus fixed ahead. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and laced with tension. "It’s safe. That’s all you need to know."

Safe. The word rang hollow in my ears. Nothing about this situation felt safe.

We entered a small room at the end of the hallway, and Samuel’s men closed the door behind us, leaving us alone. The room was sparsely furnished with a single bed, a chair, and a small table. It felt more like a cell than a sanctuary.

I turned to face him, my arms crossing defensively over my chest. "What the hell is going on, Samuel? You can’t just drag me around without an explanation."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. The movement was uncharacteristically frustrating, and it gave me a glimpse of the man beneath the facade. "They’re back," he said finally, his voice tight. "The men who took you before. They’re working with my enemies now."

The blood drained from my face, and I stumbled back a step, my back hitting the wall. "What?"

Samuel’s gaze softened, just barely, as he stepped closer. "I won’t let them take you again, Nina. Do you understand me? I’ll kill every last one of them if I have to."

His words sent a shiver down my spine. There was no doubt in my mind that he meant every word. And yet, the thought of being caught in the crossfire of his world was just as terrifying as the men he was protecting me from.

"I don’t… I don’t want any of this," I whispered, my voice cracking. "I just want to be free."

Samuel’s hand cupped my cheek, his touch surprisingly gentle. "Freedom doesn’t exist, Nina. Not in the way you think it does. But I’ll keep you safe. Even if it means you hate me for it."

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me break. "I’ll never be safe with you."

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, I thought he might argue. But he stepped back, his gaze hardening once more. "You don’t have a choice."

The finality in his tone sent a chill through me. He wasn’t just a man fighting his enemies. He was a man fighting to keep what he considered his. And whether I liked it or not, that included me.

The hours dragged on, each one heavier than the last. Samuel barely left my side, his presence a constant reminder of the danger that lurked just beyond these walls. He was tense, his sharp gaze scanning every corner, every shadow, as if expecting an attack at any moment.

I tried to keep my distance, to stay out of his way, but it was impossible to ignore the magnetic pull between us. Every glance, every accidental brush of his hand against mine sent my heart racing. It was infuriating, the way my body betrayed me even as my mind screamed to stay away.

When night fell, I sat on the edge of the bed, my knees pulled to my chest as I stared at the door. The silence was oppressive, broken only by the occasional sound of Samuel’s men moving through the halls.

Samuel entered the room without knocking, his presence filling the space like a storm cloud. He crossed his arms as he leaned against the doorframe, his gaze piercing.

"You should try to sleep," he said, his tone softer than I expected.

I laughed bitterly, shaking my head. "Sleep? In this place? With you? "

His lips twitched into something resembling a smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. "I’m not the one you should be afraid of."

"No," I said, meeting his gaze head-on. "You’re just the one keeping me here."

For a moment, the tension between us crackled like a live wire. Then, without a word, Samuel stepped closer, his movements slow and deliberate. He crouched in front of me, his eyes level with mine.

"I know you hate me," he mumbled. "But if you’re going to survive this, you need to trust me."

I searched his face for any sign of deceit, but all I saw was grim determination. It was a terrifying thing, to realize that the man who held me captive might also be the only one capable of keeping me alive.

As he stood, the faintest flicker of something warmer crossed his face. "Goodnight, Mrs. Caputo."

My breath hitched. "Stop calling me that."

He smirked, the arrogance in his expression only fueling my irritation. "Go to sleep, Nina. Tomorrow will be worse."

He closed the door behind him, leaving me alone with the suffocating weight of his words.

That night, sleep came reluctantly, dragging me down into its embrace like a reluctant lover. But it wasn’t the nightmares I expected that greeted me. Instead, vivid and unwelcome warmth coursed through my veins.

In the dream, Samuel stood close, his intense blue eyes locking onto mine with a fire that made my breath hitch. His hand brushed my cheek, his touch softer than I’d imagined he was capable of. My body betrayed me, leaning into him, even as my mind screamed to pull away.

" You’re mine ," he murmured, his voice a low, dangerous growl that sent shivers down my spine. His lips hovered, teasing, taunting, until I thought I might lose my mind from the anticipation .

I arched with a moan, trying to entice him.

His large hands spread my legs apart, and I gasped at the sensation of our skin touching. Sparks exploded in my stomach, and I let loose a low moan.

I begged him to touch me, my mind going crazy with want. Just as he circled my clit with his fingers–

I woke up with a start, my skin flushed and my heart racing. The remnants of the dream clung to me like smoke, refusing to dissipate. I buried my face in my hands, disgusted with myself for the heat pooling low in my belly. This wasn’t who I was. I wasn’t supposed to feel this way about him.

But as the dream replayed in my mind, vivid and unrelenting, I couldn’t ignore the truth clawing its way to the surface. I hated him. But a part of me–a tiny, treacherous part–couldn’t deny the pull he had on me.

I let out a shaky breath, forcing myself to push the thought away. Tomorrow would come, and with it, new battles to fight. But for now, I was left with the lingering ghost of a dream I wished I could forget.