Semua Bab She's an Assassin: Falling for the Enemy : Bab 121 - Bab 130

The first gunshot sliced through the laughter like lightning through glass. Champagne flutes shattered, screams rippled across the ballroom and the soft hum of violins turned into a discordant echo drowned by chaos. I’m a matter of seconds, the glittering event of power and pride transformed into a war zone. Marco’s instincts kicked in before his thoughts could catch up.He grabbed Alessa by the wrist and pulled her down, his other hand already reaching for the pistol holstered beneath his suit jacket. Luca, ever loyal and sharp, dove behind an overturned table with them, pulling out his own firearm. The sound of gunfire intensified–heavy automatic weapons this time–meaning the invaders came prepared.“Stay low.” Marco hissed under his breath, eyes darting across the room, mapping out the exits and the shooters’ positions. Alessa’s breathing was steady–too steady. The kind of calm that came from years of training and too many close calls. Her eyes flicked towards the center of the hal

The room stank of iron and fear. Matteo hung between two men like a broken marionette, wrists tied behind him with blood dripping steadily from his lip. The flickering bulb overhead cast long shadows that made the walls look like they were closing in. His shirt was half torn, his once slicked hair plastered to his forehead with sweat.Every breath came out like a rasping plea. “Please,” he muttered with a shaky voice. “Please, I don’t know anything, I swear.” “Liar.” Isabelle spat. She stood in front od him, very inch of her painted in fury–hot fury. Her blood-stained arm was wrapped in a bandage from the earlier attack but she didn’t care. The wound only fueled her rage. Her men surrounded Matteo like wolves around a wounded prey.The sound of her heels echoed as she circled him slowly, her expression calm but her eyes blazing. “Do you know what you ruined? Do you fucking know?” She asked. Her tone was soft, dangerously calm. “My father’s name. His legacy. The entire family’s reputa

The night had finally gone still. Marco guided Alessa down the long corridor, away from the metallic scent of blood and the muffled screams that still echoed faintly behind closed doors. The air felt heavier the farther they walked, like the walls themselves were holding their breath. She didn’t speak, her pace was steady but slow. Her eyes were distant, fixed somewhere beyond the hallway.The earlier rage had left her hollow and her body was still trembling from the exhaustion that followed adrenaline. When they reached her quarters, Marco pushed open the door. The room was dim, lit only by the faint glow of a lamp near the bed. It cast long, soft shadows across the floor–a kind of quiet that felt almost foreign in a house built on chaos. “Sit.” He said.Alsssa hesitated then sank onto the edge of the bed. Her hand instinctively drifted to her abdomen again, pressing lightly against it. She tried to hide it but Marco saw. He stood for a moment just watching her. His suit jackets hung

The night after Vittorio’s board meeting carried a strange silence through the mansion–the kind that felt heavy, like the air itself had weight. Isabelle sat in her private lounge, the wine on her glass untouched with her reflection quivering in the red liquid like a ghost. Her father had held a meeting. A strategic one, no doubt–filled with men who spoke her language of power and blood. Yet, she hadn’t been invited.She tilted her head slightly, the corners of her mouth twitching with restrained fury. “He had the meeting without me, Vincenzo?” She asked, her voice quiet, almost calm. Vincenzo stood a few feet away, hands folded respectfully in front of him. “Yes, Signora. The Don wanted to handle it privately.”“Privately?” Isabelle repeated, her tone sharpening like a blade drawn from its sheath. She turned her eyes toward him, cold and glimmering beneath the chandelier’s light. “Since when am I not part of private matters in this family? When did that fucking start? Ohhh, so I’m an

The last echoes of Vittorio’s request had barely faded from the meditation hall when Luca’s phone vibrated again. The sound sliced through the silence like a knife. Alessa’s eyes opened, sharp, alert, already sensing something was wrong. Luca glanced at the screen, confusion furrowing his brows no name, no number, just a private call.He accepted it anyway.“Luca… don’t move.”The voice on the other end was calm—too calm. Mature. Feminine. And terrifyingly familiar.Alessa froze.Luca’s heartbeat stalled. “Gloria?”“Good,” she replied softly. “You recognized me. Now listen carefully. There is a red dot on your chest. Don’t look down, don’t jerk, don’t breathe too loudly. A sniper is taking aim.”Alessa shot to her feet, instinct propelling her toward him, but Luca lifted a hand quickly. Stay.Gloria continued, her voice smooth as silk, yet cold enough to freeze blood. “If either of you makes a sudden move, it will be the last one Luca ever makes.”The meditation hall suddenly felt too