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Chapter one

Noa

“Did you think I would forgive you for killing my father?” Her words are laced with venom and lies as she’s holding the knife against my throat.

Everything was a fucking lie.

My love for her was used as a prop for exacting revenge.

But she played with the wrong man.

She made me look like a fool and weaponized my love for her, but that stops now.

Lana will die by my own fucking hands, and I’m going to paint the room with her blood.

“You are a fucking stupid bitch, Lana,” I voice my disdain to her, but she doesn’t pay it any attention. Her lips turn into a dangerous curl. She is enjoying my anguish.

“My knife is going to be coated in your blood, and I’ll lick all of it up.” Fucking hell. “Any last words?” she asks me as she pushes the knife further into my flesh. I stop blinking, and I slow down my heart rate. I look into her eyes, and there is no trace of that person I fell in love with. They are void of any emotion. In her place is the person she probably has always been—a stone-cold assassin.

Time to fucking end that.

“No last words? I hope you fucking rot in hell, asshole,” she spits at me.

Not today, Lana.

With one quick move, I slice her arm with the little knife that fell from her pocket a couple of minutes ago. This small momentum gives me a fucking second to regain control, so I push her away from me. Lana falls on her ass as she grips her arm.

With what little strength I have, I stand up and point the knife towards her.

“I told you that I hate liars, little hum–Lana,” I stop myself from using the nickname I gave to her. She doesn’t deserve that courtesy anymore.

I can feel her henchmen’s weapons on me, but I don’t fucking care. I only have eyes for her. Lana holds on to her knife as she stands up. Once she is up, she takes a fighting position, not caring if her arm is bleeding. And the worst part? Even in these moments, a small part of me cares for her well-being.

I mimic her position, and she starts talking.

“Noa, I won’t leave this room until I see you bleeding all over these floors,” she promises me. But aren’t promises meant to be broken?

“If you think I can’t kill everyone in this room, you are mistaken,” I shoot back. Lana shifts her weight onto one foot, ready to attack me.

“You talk a whole lot, and kill a lot less,” she says to me with a devilish smile. I try to lunge for her, but I am stopped by the door bursting open and shots being fired. I barely have time to register what is happening, but the sight before me is one to be seen. Lana’s men are dropping down like flies, by my team.

My.

Fucking.

Team.

They are dressed in head-to-toe black and masks that cover everything but their eyes. Even though I am in awe of my team, I’m starting to lose consciousness because of the blood loss, and I drop my knife. And Lana takes advantage of it.

She runs towards me and kicks me in my knees, and I drop down to the floor. This devil-woman is now standing behind me with her left hand holding me by my hair, and with the other hand, she is pressing her knife against my throat. Again.

“STOP!” Lana screams at the top of her lungs, and everybody stops firing. They look in our direction and, seeing me like this, my team removes their masks.

“Lana, let him go,” Sara orders her sharply. If Sara’s quiet, you know shit is about to hit the fan.

“Why would I do that? He killed my father,” Lana questions Sara. My friend’s fingers tighten on her assault rifle, and she is almost ready to pull the fucking trigger. Josh is doing the same thing, Adam is focused on Lana’s men, and Oliver is ready to throw every single knife he has in his hands.

“Because if you don’t, no one here will make it out alive. Including you,” Sara explains. Lana is about to reply, but Sara stops with a tsk sound.