Page 126 of Assassin: Part 1

I know grown men who wouldn’t survive what she has. At least not without making them actually insane.

While she might be somewhat insane, the woman in front of me is far more logical and sane than she gives herself credit for. Hell, she created one of the fiercest assassins on the planet, and no one would guess it was her at any kind of glance.

I don’t know whether it makes me an idiot or in need of some serious therapy that I find that fucking hot. If I believed in that kind of thing, I might actually talk to a shrink about it.

For now, I’m going to work on convincing her to trust me. Whatever she’s been through, it won’t change how I look at her. At the feelings building inside me.

Love? Maybe, but not yet. I know so little about her I don’t think it’s possible. My father told me he and my mother knew little about each other when they met and love grew in time. Knowing now what Lane revealed, I’ve never felt his words more. He put in the work, and if that’s what I want with Lane, I’ll have to do the same.

“Are you sure I can’t convince you to some breakfast?” I ask when she heads for the door. I’m still buttoning my shirt, and a quick flash of appreciation flashes in her eyes as they zero in on my exposed chest, making me grin.

“No. I’m sure your brother and Oleg have a lot to tell you and will appreciate me not being around while they do it.” Her gaze slips up to mine, and she smirks. “Just remember what I said about the whining and crying, will you?”

I freeze. “What the hell does that mean? What are they going to be telling me that involves you?”

“And spoil the surprise. Never.” She laughs but stops when something over my shoulder catches her attention. And the dark, foreboding glare has me instantly on alert.

I spin fast, unsure what I’m about see, but it most definitely should not be Mishka Belov stepping out of my fucking antique wardrobe near the window in the back corner of the fucking room.

“I’m going to kill you,” Lane seethes. “What the fuck, Mishka? How the fuck⁠—”

“Shut the fuck up and let’s go. We’ve got a problem.” Mishka’s tone is cold, sharp, and I’m instantly on edge. So is Lane.

She doesn’t question him, just simply walks toward him.

What. The. Fuck.

“No one is fucking going anywhere until I know what the hell is going on,” I snap. “How did you… How the fuck is that there? What the fuck did you do?”

“I don’t have fucking time to go over all this shit,” Mishka snaps. “She can explain it later.”

“Yeah, definitely going to kill you,” Lane hisses. “Do you know how much shit I’m going to have to argue with him about for this now? This better be fucking good.”

She’s still walking toward him, so I grab her arm, spinning her around. She doesn’t fight me, but she wrenches away, her gaze hard. “You are not going anywhere until you tell me what the hell a fucking secret door is doing in my bedroom. Who put it there? Was it you? Is that how you’ve been getting into the house?”

“It’s one of the ways,” she says. “And in time, I’d have probably shown it to you. Ilya, remember how I said you have to trust me? This is one of those fucking times. If Mishka is here, using it when I fucking changed the code,” she adds with a pointed glare his way, “then that means there is a big fucking problem and I don’t have time to argue with you about it. Now, I have to go. I’ll be in touch when I can.”

“No. I’m coming with you.”

“No, you’re not. This has nothing⁠—”

“Jesus Christ, have your lovers spat later. Let him come, I don’t give a fuck, but we don’t have time for this,” Mishka barks. “Move it.”

I don’t give her a choice on if I go or not. I move around her and follow Mishka. To my damn wardrobe. She mutters something behind me, but she doesn’t fight with me anymore. Maybe whatever Mishka needs her for is too urgent for her to continue arguing with me, but I don’t give a fuck. Whatever the hell is going on, I want to know.

I have to bend down to get in, but when I see the steps leading down from the hidden door, my jaw clenches. Where the fuck did those come from? Guess I’m about to find out. I glare at Lane over my shoulder when she shuts the door behind her, keying a code into the panel on the other side of the door.

She holds my stare then steps around me and follows Mishka down. Neither of them speak to each other, but the tension between them is thick.

The steps descend in a gradual spiral until they finally level out into a long cement tunnel. It’s cooler down here, but not uncomfortable. I button my shirt as we go, my thoughts spinning as I follow them. I stop briefly when I realize the tunnel splits off to the left and right in one particular area.

Where the hell do those go?

“Later, Ilya. Move it.” Lane’s sharp order has me moving again, but my anger is starting to build. I have never seen this, and it’s far too new for it to have been built during my father’s time. Which means my pain in the ass little fox has been hard at work right under my nose.

I stew, planning just how I’m going to make her pay for this stunt. God help her when Oleg and Zakhar find out. I’m not going to step in with them either. She can lie in the bed she made.

Then she’ll be in mine and be spilling every fucking secret she has before I’m done with her.