Page 38 of High Reward

“I don’t give a fuck about risk,” Hunter says, but something in his voice has changed. A hairline fracture in his usual control.

Matteo notices it too. “You would if you were thinking clearly,” he says quietly. “This isn’t like you, Hunter. Trinity wouldn’t want you making decisions from this place.”

The mention of his wife’s name hits Hunter like a physical blow. He straightens, running a hand over his face. For a splitsecond, I see past the casino mogul to the man beneath, hollow with fear and exhaustion.

“Trinity was right there,” he says, voice suddenly raw, as he stares at me. “Right beside you. The bullet was meant for Liliana, but it could have been my wife’s heart instead of her spine.”

I stand slowly, keeping my movements deliberate. “I’m not dismissing what happened to Trinity. But sending Liliana in would be handing Draven exactly what he wants. We’d lose our only leverage, and Trinity’s shooting would be for nothing.”

Hunter’s breath comes out in a slow hiss. “Then what do you propose?”

I look at the invitation again, mind already turning over alternatives. “We need access to Draven, but not through Liliana. And we need a plan that doesn’t end with more innocent people caught in the crossfire.”

“Fine,” Hunter says after a long moment. “But the clock is still ticking, Victor. And I’m not known for my patience.”

I nod once, acknowledging both the concession and the threat still lingering beneath it. Hunter hasn’t backed down. He’s merely regrouping, like any skilled strategist would.

“Liliana has asked to visit Trinity,” I say, changing tactics. “She wants to apologize for what happened.”

And just like that, the temporary truce shatters.

Hunter’s face goes from red to white in an instant. His palm slams down on the table with enough force to send his coffee cup clattering across the polished surface, dark liquid sloshing over the rim and onto the papers beneath. “Are you out of your fucking mind?” he shouts, voice filling the cavernous office. “You want to bring the woman Phineas Draven is trying to kill into my wife’s hospital room?”

I don’t flinch. “Liliana feels responsible.”

“I don’t give a shit what she feels,” Hunter spits, leaning forward on both palms now. Coffee drips from the edge of thetable to the floor. No one moves to clean it up. “Trinity is surrounded by the best security money can buy because I don’t trust anyone right now. Least of all the people who put her in that hospital bed.”

“That’s not fair,” Luke says quietly.

Hunter laughs, a harsh sound stripped of humor. “Fair? You want to talk to me about fair when my wife might never walk again?”

I hold my ground, keeping my voice level. “Liliana is also a victim here. One with her own trauma to process.”

“Process it somewhere else,” Hunter snaps. “Not at my wife’s bedside.”

Owen leans forward. “Hunter, no one is suggesting we compromise Trinity’s security. We’d coordinate with your team, follow every protocol.”

Hunter’s eyes narrow to slits. “No. I’ll tell Trinity that Liliana sends her regrets.”

The office feels even colder now, the air conditioner whirring loudly over the tension in the air. Matteo shifts in his chair, eyes tracking between Hunter and me like he’s watching a chess match. Luke’s fingers tap once, twice against the armrest of his chair.

“Actually, I think it might be beneficial.”

The voice comes from the corner of the room, where Samuel Carter has been standing so silently, I’d almost forgotten his presence. He steps forward now, his movements precise and controlled. Unlike Hunter, Samuel looks freshly showered and impeccably dressed, though the shadows under his eyes tell of similar sleepless nights.

Hunter’s head snaps toward him. “You want to repeat that, Sam?”

Samuel doesn’t rush to fill the silence. When he finally speaks, his voice carries the weight of careful consideration. “Erin spentall night with Trinity. She mentioned that Trinity’s been asking about Liliana.”

Hunter’s jaw works beneath his skin. “My wife is on heavy pain medication.”

“She’s lucid,” Samuel counters quietly. “And worried about the woman who was standing next to you when the shooting happened.”

Hunter turns away, pacing behind his chair. His fingers rake through his already disheveled hair, leaving it standing in uneven spikes. “This is insane.”

“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?”