She did, but I try not to dwell on that as I flick my focus to the tenets posted behind him. Above them is their motto,One sword. One shield. One stone.And below them is,Never say die.I wonder how often those phrases are her inner mantra.
“Who was she working for?”
He huffs a mirthless chuckle. “Not even she had that clearance.”
“What were the terms she agreed to?” I try, growing irritated.
“I can’t divulge that without compromising the client.”
“Was it KORT?” I press.
“Wouldn’t you know if it was?” He leans forward, skipping past the confirmation that I’m one of the chairs. “I assume you uncovered that KORT owned her years ago.”
Relief fills my lungs because we’re finally headed in a useful direction. “Yes. She killed Kratos’ men for them, on behalf of Keller. How long was she contracted to them?”
“A few years. But I negotiated to join her. My son and I helped her complete it early. Which is why her being on this job was doomed from the start.” He sighs, frustrated. “Tripp—her brother—didn’t realize … I don’t disclose client names to the handlers either, so he didn’t understand what he assigned her to. He knew there were KORT ties to La Lune Noire, but not that she’d ever worked for them—or even that he had.”
Unable to sit any longer, I move to the simulation window, watching in astonishment as an assassin sprints through an exercise, thwarting and shooting both real opponents and pop-ups in what appears to be a mock warehouse. “So, what the hell does this mean?”
“It means … she’s smart, like you said. And she pieced enough things together that she realized she had to get out.”
The assassin finishes in just under two minutes. Cheers abound, so I’m guessing that’s good. It makes me wonder how many of the hit men who frequent my resort have trained here.
“What’s the fastest time?”
He doesn’t hesitate, likely knowing the stats of every impressive accomplishment in this place. “Seventy-six seconds.”
Or maybe he holds the record himself. That’s a hell of a lot faster than what I just witnessed. Unless …
“Who?”
“Zara.” A hint of pride threads that reply.
That’s my girl—my unstoppable Thorn. Slugger to my family. Noire queen to our empire. A fucking marvel.
Even though I feel like my heart is outside my body, I grin and poke at his ego. “Faster than you?”
“Yes. She’s a legend around here, like she was determined to be. But to be fair, I’m fucking old.”
A huffed chuckle escapes me because I relate to that more than I’d like to, but hoping to catch him off guard, I twist togauge his reaction to my next query. “Did you send Shep to kill her?”
“Shep?” His brows knit to one confounded line. “Shepherd Lange?” When I nod, he replies, “No. When did he show up?”
Fuck. Had she misread what Shep was hinting at?
“Before I killed Keller.”
“Goddammit.” He slams his fist against his desk, muttering to himself, “And she thought it was me?”
“What about Beck Davis? Was that you?”
His head lifts with his answer before the words arrive. “What happened with Beck?”
“Killed in his home the day we got married.”
“Not us.” He shakes his head, but his wheels are turning. He knows something. “If she’s going against KORT, wouldn’t it be treason for you to protect her?”
“I will always choose Zara.”
