Chapter 43 Victor
VICTOR
The VIP bar in Purgatory looks different tonight. Less predatory. Less hostile. The Hunt Anniversary gathering feels more like an exclusive cocktail party than the beginning of a depraved chase.
I adjust my tie, scanning the room while keeping Theo close to my side. My fingers press possessively into his hip, a silent claim that I don’t bother hiding anymore.
“It’s different this time,” I murmur, watching the couples scattered throughout the space.
Across the room, I spot Keira Valentino, who I remember from last year’s Hunt, standing between the Dexter twins.
The dancer looks radiant in a shimmering dress, her hand resting comfortably on Ace’s forearm while Cyrus looms protectively behind her.
The twins’ matching black-and-yellow masks from the Hunt hang loosely around their necks.
Marcus Reid and Jenson are here, considering they were also unsuccessful hunters in last year’s hunt.
My gaze shifts to Cora Pike, the mayor’s daughter, surrounded by three men who watch her every move with undisguised hunger.
Dominic Vega stands closest to her, whispering something in her ear that makes her blush.
Liam Hayes observes with calculating eyes while Ryder Caldwell casually drapes his arm around Cora’s waist.
“So many caught their prey permanently,” I observe, sipping my whiskey.
A few men hover at the edges of the room—the hunters who failed to claim anyone during the Hunt last year. They drink heavier, laugh louder, compensating for their solitude with bravado.
Theo shifts beside me, his eyes fixed on Julian Frost and Elliot Chambers across the room.
Julian raises his glass in silent acknowledgment while Elliot whispers something in his ear.
Theo hasn’t mentioned our discussion about the four of us since that morning at breakfast. The invitation sits unanswered somewhere in his apartment, and I haven’t found the courage to bring it up again.
“You okay?” I ask, squeezing his hip gently.
Theo nods, offering me a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Fine.”
I want to ask if he’s spoken to Julian and Elliot, if they agreed to our potential arrangement during the Hunt. But the words stick in my throat. Despite everything we’ve become to each other, some conversations still feel impossible.
Instead, I guide him toward the bar, keeping my hand firmly on the small of his back as we navigate through the intimate crowd.
As we reach the bar, Knox Blackwood, the youngest of the Blackwood brothers, appears with Bianca at his side. His blue mask hangs loosely around his neck, while Bianca’s fingers stay intertwined with his.
“Well, if it isn’t the fight club king,” Knox says with a smirk. “Didn’t expect to see you two together tonight.” His eyes flick between Theo and me, that trademark Blackwood arrogance glittering in his gaze.
“Knox,” I nod curtly. Despite everything, the youngest Blackwood still sets my teeth on edge.
Bianca elbows Knox playfully. “Be nice. They look good together.”
“We weren’t together during the Hunt,” Theo clarifies, accepting a glass of champagne from the bartender. “Victor was still pretending he was straight back then.”
I choke slightly on my whiskey. “I wasn’t pretending. I was... figuring things out.”
Knox laughs. “That’s not how I remember it. You looked ready to tear Elliot’s throat out when he had his hands all over Theo.”
“The way I recall,” Bianca adds, “you couldn’t keep your eyes off him during the orgy room portion or the feast.”
Heat crawls up my neck. I’m not used to this—having my feelings dissected so casually in public.
“Things changed after the Hunt,” Theo says, his shoulder brushing against mine. “Victor needed some... convincing.”
Knox raises an eyebrow. “I bet he did. The big, tough fight promoter with his reputation to protect.”
Something about Knox’s tone—maybe the challenge in it—straightens my spine. I slide my arm around Theo’s waist, pulling him firmly against my side.
“We’re together now,” I say clearly, the words echoing in my own ears. It’s the first time I’ve declared it so plainly in public, outside the safety of my gym. “Have been since shortly after the Hunt.”
Theo’s eyes widen slightly, surprise and pleasure washing over his features.
Knox raises his glass. “Congratulations on finally finding your balls, Kaine.”
I snort at Knox’s comment, leaning into the challenge rather than shrinking from it.
“That’s rich coming from a guy who spent half the Hunt hiding in shadows instead of actually hunting,” I fire back, matching his smirk with one of my own. “Tell me, Knox—did you actually catch Bianca, or did she just get tired of waiting and turn herself in?”
Knox’s eyes widen momentarily before a genuine laugh bursts from him. “Fuck you, Kaine. I caught her fair and square.”
“After I led him on a chase through that damn maze,” Bianca chimes in, grinning.
Theo leans into me, his body warm against mine. “Victor wasn’t exactly subtle with his staring.”
“Neither were you,” I murmur, squeezing his hip. The old anxiety about being overheard discussing men has faded considerably over the past weeks.
Bianca’s eyes dance between us, a mischievous smile spreading across her face. “God, you two are going to look so hot together during this year’s Hunt.” She leans forward, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “Especially in the orgy room and at the feast.”
Knox reaches out, tugging her back against his chest. “Behave yourself, baby. We haven’t even started the festivities yet.”
“I’m always behaved,” Bianca protests, but the gleam in her eye suggests otherwise.
“About as behaved as Theo,” I say, raising an eyebrow at them both.
Theo doesn’t even bother defending himself, instead lifting his glass in a silent toast of acknowledgment that makes us all laugh.
As Knox and Bianca drift away, I spot Julian making his way toward us with Elliot in tow. Julian’s slick tailoring and easy confidence stand in sharp contrast to my own rigid posture. Elliot walks half a step behind him, a slight smirk playing on his lips.
I feel Theo straighten beside me. Something passes between them—an unspoken acknowledgment that raises the hairs on the back of my neck.
“Theo,” Julian says, voice smooth as aged whiskey. “I was beginning to think you’d forgotten about us.” His eyes flick to me, then back to Theo. “Does the plan still stand?”
I tighten my grip on Theo’s waist. “What plan?”
Julian’s eyes meet mine, holding my gaze with unflinching intensity. His lips curl into that infuriating smirk I’ve seen him wear during business deals and at Purgatory events—the look of a man who knows he has the upper hand.
“The one where I fuck your ass, Victor.”
My mouth goes dry. Blood rushes south so fast I feel lightheaded, my cock hardening instantly against my tailored pants. I try to formulate a response, but my brain short-circuits, trapped between outrage and undeniable arousal.
Theo’s hand slides up my back, fingers pressing into muscle. “We discussed it, remember? The four of us, during the Hunt?”
I remember the conversation—Theo on his knees, my hand in his hair, his suggestion about arrangements with Julian and Elliot. But hearing it stated so bluntly, in public, from Julian’s mouth...
Elliot steps closer, his eyes traveling down my body, lingering pointedly on the visible outline of my erection. “Looks like someone’s body is making decisions his mouth hasn’t caught up to yet.”
I swallow hard, fighting to regain my composure while Julian and Elliot’s eyes rake over me with what feels like an almost feral interest. My voice comes out rougher than intended.
“And you’re fine with that, Elliot? With your man fucking another man?”
The question hangs between us, loaded with my own insecurities that I’m still learning to navigate. Six months ago, I wouldn’t have been able to say those words aloud in public. Now they feel like a test—not of Elliot, but of myself.
Elliot’s smile widens, completely unfazed. “Of course I am. It’s part of the Hunt, Victor.” He steps closer, his cologne mingling with Julian’s as they create a wall of expensive scent around Theo and me. “And I know exactly who Julian comes home to. I’m not insecure about it.”
His confidence is enviable—the casual certainty of someone who knows their place in their partner’s life without question.
“Two couples consensually agreeing to some fun for a portion of the Hunt?” Elliot continues with a casual shrug. “That’s completely natural here. It’s what the Hunt was designed for.”
I feel Theo’s body relax against mine. He’s been waiting for this—probably orchestrating it since the invitation arrived. The realization doesn’t upset me as it might have once. Instead, there’s a strange comfort in how well he knows what I need before I can admit it to myself.
“Besides,” Elliot adds, his eyes flickering between Theo and me with undisguised heat, “we’ve all seen each other at our most... exposed already.”
Julian’s eyes lock with mine, a hungry smile spreading across his face as he leans in closer.
“I can’t wait to see how you look taking a cock while giving it to your boy,” he says with a wink, his voice low enough that only our small circle can hear.
My face burns with a rage I’ve never felt until now. Before I can respond, Julian slides his arm around Elliot’s waist and guides him away, both men disappearing into the crowd with knowing smirks.
I stare after them, pulse hammering in my ears. When I turn to Theo, I find him watching me with those perceptive eyes that always see straight through my bullshit. The little shit looks pleased with himself.
I grab his arm roughly, pulling him against my chest. “You’ve been planning this behind my back,” I growl, my fingers digging into the expensive fabric of his shirt. “Naughty boy.”
Instead of cowering, Theo’s eyes light up with mischief. He presses closer, his lips nearly brushing mine.
“Are you going to spank me as punishment, Daddy?” he asks, voice dripping with mock innocence while his hips press deliberately against mine. Then, when he doesn’t get the desired reaction, he further pokes the bear by fluttering his eyelashes at me like they’re trying to fly him away. Brat.
The suggestion sends a jolt of heat straight to my groin. I growl—a primal sound that rises from deep in my chest—and crash my mouth against his. The kiss is punishing, claiming, my fingers threading through his hair to hold him exactly where I want him.