The Hunter

Marcus's POV

Marcus Webb crushed the phone in his hands so hard the screen cracked.

"What do you mean she's dead?" he growled into the broken device.

Vincent's nervous words crackled through the damaged speaker. "Rebecca Martinez. The cops found her tonight. Someone killed her before we could—"

Marcus threw the phone against his car window. Glass exploded everywhere, cutting his fingers. Blood dripped onto his driving wheel, but he didn't care. Three months of planning. Three months of studying Rebecca Martinez, learning her habits, becoming the best boyfriend for her.

All wasted.

He pulled out a fake phone and speed-dialed Vincent again. "Tell me exactly what happened."

"Someone beat us to it. Professional job. No witnesses. But Marcus, there's something else. The cops called her cousin. Emma Martinez."

Marcus went completely still. Emma Martinez. The name he'd been looking for, for five long years. The woman who'd saved his useless life on the Brooklyn Bridge and then disappeared like smoke.

"Where is she?" Marcus whispered.

"Brooklyn. I can get you an address."

Marcus started his car, his hands shaking with joy. Rebecca had just been practice anyway. A way to get close to Emma's family, to learn about the woman who'd haunted his thoughts since that night on the bridge.

But now he could skip all that. Go right to the real prize.

"Send me everything you have on Emma Martinez," Marcus ordered. "Home address, work schedule, favorite coffee shop. Everything."

As he drove through the empty New York streets, Marcus remembered that night five years ago. He'd been standing on the Brooklyn Bridge at 2 AM, ready to jump. His life was nothing but failure and pain. His parents were dead, his business had failed, and the woman he loved had run off with his best friend.

Then Emma had appeared like an angel.

She'd talked to him for two hours, her voice soft and caring. She'd told him life was worth living, that someone would love him someday. She'd given him her phone number and made him promise to call if he ever felt that dark again.

But when Marcus called the next day, the number was fake. Emma Martinez had vanished totally, leaving him with nothing but her name and the memory of her beautiful face.

That's when Marcus realized the truth. Emma had lied to him. She'd given him hope just to take it away. She'd played with his heart like it was a toy.

So Marcus chose to play back.

He spent five years becoming someone worthy of her. He learned how to charm women, how to make them trust him totally. He practiced on dozens of women, perfecting his techniques.

But when the relationships finished, Marcus couldn't just let the women go. They'd seen the real him, the broken parts he kept hidden. They could reveal him, ruin his chances with Emma.

So he made sure they stayed quiet. Forever.

Rebecca Martinez was meant to be different. She was Emma's cousin, a way to get information about the woman who'd destroyed and saved him. But Rebecca had been too curious, asked too many questions about why he wanted to know about Emma.

Marcus had been forced to handle the Rebecca case permanently. Through a paid killer, of course. He never got his own hands dirty anymore.

Now his phone buzzed with Vincent's message. Emma's address, work information, everyday routine. Marcus studied the information like a war plan.

Emma Martinez, 29, independent journalist. Lived alone in a tiny Brooklyn room. Jogged through Central Park every morning at 4 AM when she couldn't sleep.

Perfect.

Marcus drove to a 24-hour store and got hair dye, contact lenses, and new clothes. In the store bathroom, he changed himself from Marcus Webb into Ryan Cole. Sandy brown hair instead of black. Blue specs instead of brown eyes. Expensive running gear instead of his normal dark clothes.

He practiced Ryan's smile in the mirror. Warm, trustworthy, slightly shy. The kind of man a woman like Emma would fall for quickly.

"Hello, I'm Ryan," he whispered to his image. "Ryan Cole."

The fake ID he'd bought months ago was perfect. Credit background, social security number, even a fake job as a financial advisor. Ryan Cole existed on paper in every way that counted.

By 3:30 AM, Marcus was parked outside Central Park, waiting. His heart hammered with excitement. After five years of looking and planning, he was finally going to see Emma again.

At exactly 4:15 AM, she appeared.

Marcus's breath caught in his throat. Emma was even more beautiful than he remembered. Her dark hair caught the streetlight as she ran, and her face held the same gentle power that had captivated him on the bridge.

She looked upset about something, tears streaming down her face as she ran. Probably crying about her dead cousin. Perfect. Grief would make her weak, easier to manipulate.

Marcus got out of his car and jogged into the park, timing his route to meet with hers. He loosened a tree root along the road, making sure it stuck up just enough to catch an unwary runner.

Then he waited in the dark.

Emma ran right into his trap, just like he'd planned. Her foot caught the root and she went flying forward. Marcus ran out and caught her, playing the hero perfectly.

"Whoa there," he said, using Ryan's warm voice. "I've got you."

The moment Emma looked up at him with those trusting brown eyes, Marcus felt something unexpected. A flutter in his chest, a warmth he hadn't felt in years.

No. This was just the hunt. Just another woman to conquer and rule.

But as Emma told him about her cousin's death, as tears rolled down her face, Marcus found himself actually caring about her pain. Actually wanting to comfort her.

This wasn't part of the plan.

"Would you like to get coffee?" he heard himself ask. The words came out naturally, but for once, Marcus actually meant them.

When Emma said yes, Marcus felt real happiness flood through him. Not the cold satisfaction of a good manipulation, but real joy.

They walked toward the park exit together, and Marcus allowed himself to imagine a different future. Maybe he didn't have to hurt Emma. Maybe he could actually try to love her the right way this time.

That's when Emma's phone buzzed.

Marcus watched her face go white as she read the message. Her hands started shaking, and she looked around anxiously like someone was hunting her.

"What's wrong?" Marcus asked, truly concerned.

Emma showed him the phone screen, and Marcus's blood turned to ice.

The message was from Rebecca's phone: "Emma, I'm in trouble. Don't trust anyone. He's coming for you next."

Marcus looked at the message, his mind racing. He'd paid Vincent to kill Rebecca and make it look random. But Vincent was meant to dispose of the body quietly, not leave it for the cops to find.

And Vincent definitely wasn't supposed to keep Rebecca's phone.

Which meant either Vincent was playing his own game, or someone else had killed Rebecca Martinez and was now targeting Emma.

Someone who knew about Marcus's plans.

Someone who was hunting the shooter.