Chapter 11 #2
“There’s also the PR angle to consider,” Samuel continues, his tone suggesting this is merely one more chess piece to position.
“The press is hungry for any information about the shooting. If Draven’s wife is seen visiting Trinity, publicly showing support and concern, it changes the narrative.
Right now, the tabloids are running with theories about a love triangle. ”
Hunter stops pacing. “What?”
Samuel nods toward the discarded newspaper on a side table. “Page Six. They’re painting Liliana as the other woman, you as the jealous husband. It’s messy, Hunter.”
“Jesus Christ,” Hunter mutters, grabbing the paper and scanning the headline. His knuckles go white against the glossy pages.
Samuel continues, voice calm as still water. “A controlled hospital visit, photographed and released through our PR team, creates a different story. Two women united by violence, supporting each other. It undermines Draven’s attempt to paint his wife as unstable or manipulated.”
Hunter tosses the paper aside and braces his hands on the back of his chair, head bowed. The muscles in his forearms stand out with tension. The room waits silent except for the soft hum of the air system and the distant sounds of the Strip below.
I watch him, seeing the calculation behind his eyes. Hunter Novak didn’t build his empire by being reckless or emotional. He’s always ten steps ahead, always in control. But Trinity’s shooting has unbalanced him in ways I’ve never seen before.
When he finally looks up, his face is a mask of barely contained fury. “One visit,” he says, each word bitten off cleanly. “Tight security. Twenty minutes max. And if I see anything, anything that makes me question her motives, I’ll have her removed immediately.”
I nod once. “Understood.”
“Owen handles the security arrangements,” I add. It’s not a request.
Hunter’s glare could strip paint. “I have my own security team.”
“And Owen is in charge of that team. Not only that, but Owen also specializes in managing high-risk encounters. He’ll be able to coordinate with your staff and give me peace of mind. It’s a win-win.”
Hunter stares at me for a long, tense moment. I don’t look away. This isn’t negotiable.
“Fine,” he finally says, the word sharp enough to cut. “Owen can run point. But I want Carter here to be on-site at all times.”
Owen nods. “That’s reasonable.”
But the tone of Owen’s voice tells me he’s hurt that Hunter may not trust him as much as he used to. The job was supposed to just be a connection for Owen, but over the years, he’s grown to love working for Hunter as his head of casino security and often as Mrs. Novak’s personal security.
Hunter’s jaw clenches tight enough to crack teeth. “Is there anything else you’d like to demand while you’re in my office?”
“No,” I say simply. “That covers it.”
He looks at each of us in turn, his gaze lingering on me last. “Remember what I told you on the phone, Victor. Seven days. We’re halfway through that timeline, and I don’t see Draven in handcuffs or a body bag yet.”
“We’re handling it,” I say.
“See that you do.” Hunter straightens his jacket with a sharp tug. “Now get out of my office. I need to get back to the hospital.”
We stand as one, no words are needed between us. Hunter’s assistant appears at the door, summoned by some silent signal, ready to escort us out. As we file toward the exit, Hunter’s voice stops me.
“Victor.”
I turn.
“If anything happens to Trinity during this visit, anything at all, our arrangement is over. And I’ll burn everything you love to the ground.”
I meet his gaze without flinching. “Nothing will happen. You have my word.”
His laugh is cold and brittle. “Your word means nothing to me right now.”
I nod once, accepting the hit. He’s not wrong. We’ve brought this war to his doorstep, and his wife is paying the price. If our positions were reversed, I’d be just as unforgiving.
The door closes behind us with a soft click that somehow sounds more final than a slam.
The elevator descends in silence, each of us lost in our own thoughts.
Hunter’s ultimatum hangs around us like an invisible noose, tightening with every passing hour.
I check my watch. It’s barely nine in the morning, but it could be midnight, with how exhausted I am after that meeting.
Three days left. Three days to neutralize Phineas Draven before Hunter turns his considerable resources against us. Against Grace. Against Liliana.
“That went better than expected,” Matteo says finally, adjusting his cufflinks with practiced nonchalance.
Luke snorts. “If that’s your definition of ‘better,’ I’d hate to see worse.”
“He agreed to the hospital visit,” Matteo points out. “And he didn’t throw us out on our asses when Victor shot down his gala plan.”
Owen punches a button for the fifteenth floor. “He’s unraveling. I’ve never seen Hunter lose control like that.”
I nod. “Trinity’s his weak spot. Always has been. Just like Bellamy is yours, and Grace and Lili are now mine.”
The elevator slows, then stops. The doors slide open to reveal a plain hallway, nothing like the opulent corridor leading to Hunter’s office. We follow Owen down a series of turns until he swipes a key card at an unmarked door.