Hunter had always managed to evade the consequences of his actions, using his wealth and charm as a shield against any repercussions. Whether it was dodging detention, suspension, or even the possibility of expulsion, money had been his solution to everything – except, perhaps, dealing with the FBI.

He thought he could simply pay his way out of this predicament or perhaps charm his way through it, but none of his usual tactics seemed to work on you. It was a foolish mistake on his part, not realizing that his neighbor was an undercover FBI agent, and letting that agent into his home, where he had carelessly left evidence of his involvement with the Sons of Seth, along with various substances.

Now, sitting in your office, his hands fidgeting nervously with his clothes, he could only sigh and lean back into the chair, hoping against hope that perhaps Alex would somehow find out and come to his rescue.

"So, what now, detective?" he grumbled, leaning forward and fixing you with a defiant look. It was almost as if he felt no remorse for his actions. "Are you going to lock me up and let me rot in there? You know, you're pretty cruel. Seducing me and then pulling out your badge during a makeout session – I mean, who does that? At least wait until I've had my fill."

He was teasing, of course, but there was an underlying truth to his words. "Listen, I'll pay whatever price you want, except for a sentence. Just name it, and you'll have it. Enough money to travel the world – I'd just really rather not spend any more time in this hellhole."

"What was the point of your whole undercover charade anyway? You couldn’t have possibly just been interested in me—so what’s this all about?”