Semua Bab She's an Assassin: Falling for the Enemy : Bab 81 - Bab 90

The restaurant was dim, tucked into a quiet corner of the city. The air smelled of garlic, wine and the faint sweetness of baked bread. Marco sat with his back to the door but the moment Alessa entered, he felt her presence before seeing her. Something about the way the atmosphere of the room shifted when she walked in–like the current of a river suddenly changing–made his pulse quicken.He looked up and there she was. Her face was half-shadowed by the golden glow of the chandeliers and her eyes were sharp with urgency. “Marco,” Alessa whispered, leaning close once she had reached him. Her hand brushed his arm, a touch meant that steady herself but it sent a charge of electricity through him.“I found something. Your sister… she may be in the Vittorio mansion. Not in the main building though. In an underground wing they’ve kept hidden.” Her words should have consumed him because for months, the thought of his sister’s captivity had been the iron chain around his mind. But at that mome

The night had grown heavier by the time Isabelle led Alessa through the gardens and out beyond the gates of the Vittorio estate. The air smelled of damp earth and jasmine though the beauty of it only sharpened the unease that pooled in Alessa’s stomach. She had seen this path before–not in full but in fragments when she had watched from a higher corridor as a few of the older nannies slipped out and vanished toward the edge of the property. Now, following Isabelle’s quiet, purposeful steps, Alessa knew where they had gone.The abandoned building loomed ahead, its windows gaping like hollow eyes with its brick walls cloaked in ivy and shadows. It had once been a guesthouse. Perhaps, a servants’ lodge but time had drained it of warmth. Isabelle pushed open the door with a hand that did not tremble and the hinges gave a groan of protest.Inside, lanterns burned low, their light flickering against cracked plaster and broken beams. A handful of men stood waiting, their faces hard and thei

The study smelled of old paper and tobacco, the kind of scent that settles into the grain of furniture and never quite leaves. Mr. Vittorio sat at the beach desk like a chess master with pieces tucked into pockets. He spoke in a low, precise voice, with tge kind of coded language that kept their family’s affairs intact for generations. “It’s nearly completed.” He told his lawyer. “Once the trusts are moved, the ledger is closed.” He paused, gave an instruction and then ended the call. He was beyond pleased with Alessa. She was doing well, very well and it made his chest swell with pride. She was indeed living true to the Vittorio name and he wanted nothing more than for things to continue with the way they were going.She was learning very fast and that said a lot already. He knew that she was almost ready. He just needed to continue observing and give Alessa more opportunities to prove herself. He had no doubt that she would exceed his expectations even.From the doorway, Isabelle w

Marco sat at the table, the metallic click of weapons filling the cramped room. The men around him worked in silence, their hands moving with the precision of soldiers preparing for a war they couldn’t afford to lose. Knives were sharpened, magazines loaded, rifles checked and re-checked.The scent of gun oil hung in the air, sharp and acrid, mingling with the sweat of anticipation. He was halfway through locking a magazine into his sidearm when the vibration of his phone cut through the silence. The men paused instinctively, glancing at him as though expecting the world to shift with that single signal.Marco snatched the phone, thumb sliding across the screen. It was from Alessa. He hadn’t seen or heard from her since their last time together. He couldn’t wait to hold her in her arms again and do so many unthinkable things to her while hearing her scream his name in that melodious voice of hers.He immediately cleared his throat to rid his mind of those thoughts and focus on his scr

The night swallowed them as Luca sped away from the Vittorio mansion, its headlights carving a path through the empty road. The echoes of gunfire and shouting still rang in Marco’s head but they felt distant now, blurred by the pounding of his heart and the weight of Sophia’s unconscious body that lay across the back seat.But Marco wasn’t looking at Sophia. His eyes, sharp and burning, were fixed on Alessa. She sat beside him with her chest still heaving from the fight, strands of hair clinging to her damp forehead. The crimson light from the mansion’s alarms had followed her into the night but here, under the dim glow of the car’s interior lamps, she seemed softer–though no less fierce. The memory of her leaping from the balcony, planting herself at his side, refusing to let him fight alone–it replayed in Marco’s mind like a spark that refused to die. Alessa caught his gaze and in that instant, words were useless. The tension that had been building between them for weeks, the wei