Page 16 of The Hitman's Forbidden Obsession

I’m already halfway out of my seat when I see her walking toward me, that little bounce in her step… but something in her expression flickers. Hesitation, nerves, maybe even guilt. When she stops in front of me, she’s got that sweet, sheepish look on her face that always makes my chest do something stupid.

“I, um…” She brushes a curl behind her ear, avoiding my eyes for a second. “My dad called earlier. He wants us to come over for dinner tonight.”

“Dinner? With... your dad?” I repeat slowly, already feeling my carefully plotted plans for the evening unravel.

“Yeah. He says it’s time he meets the mystery man who’s apparently swept me off my feet.” She gives a soft laugh and shrugs. “I didn’t know how to say no.”

I’d had a very different kind of evening planned. One that involved her bent over every available surface in my home, soft and breathless and begging me to breed her. I’d been counting down the hours. Now I’ve got to trade all that for small talk and keeping my hands off her while pretending not to fantasize about spilling blood if Victoria so much as looks at Avery wrong.

Frustration pulses sharp and hot through my veins. But so does something else.

Relief.

Because maybe this is exactly what I need. A controlled environment. Her dad present. A perfect excuse to look Victoria in the eye and remind her that I’m not her hired killer anymore. I’m Avery’s man now. Her protector.

She won’t try anything with witnesses around. And if I play it cool, I can rattle her cage and still walk out of there with my girl safe at my side.

I drag in a breath, smoothing my face before she can pick up on the war in my head. Then I reach out, tucking a knuckle under her chin to make her meet my eyes.

“Of course,” I say gently. “I can’t wait to meet your dad.”

Her bright smile is everything, and God help anyone who tries to take that from her.

***

The outside of the house is exactly what I expected.

Elegant. Expensive. Dressed up in false warmth like a stage set, meant to look lived in, but there’s no soul in it. It’s just manicured shrubs, and a front door so polished it probably has its own cleaning schedule.

Avery doesn’t notice any of that. She’s practically glowing as we walk up the front steps, her hand snug in mine, her excitement bleeding into every step. “He’s gonna love you,” she says with a smile, squeezing my fingers.

He better. I’m the reason his daughter’s still breathing. For a second, a chill runs down my spine as I consider what might have happened if Victoria had chosen another man for the job. If some other hitman had gotten their hands on my angel.

The door opens before Avery can pull her keys from her purse, and there she is.

Victoria.

For a split second, she freezes. Her eyes find mine and the blood drains from her face like someone pulled the plug on her bloodstream.

There is it. Recognition. Panic. But she hides it quickly behind a fake smile.

Avery doesn’t notice. She’s too busy smiling, too caught up in excitement to see the way Victoria stiffens like a deer staring down a scope.

“Hi,” Avery chirps. “Victoria, this is Dante. My boyfriend.”

I step forward, a polite smile in place, wrapping an arm around Avery’s waist in silent warning.

“Nice to meet you,” I say smoothly. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Victoria’s lashes flicker. Her lips curve up. “Have you?” she says, her voice sickly sweet.

Avery, oblivious to the undercurrent of venom threading the air, beams and looks between us. “Victoria married my dad five years ago, and we’ve been great friends ever since.”

My jaw tightens, but I keep my smile fixed. “Is that so?”

Victoria laughs lightly, but her knuckles are white where she grips the door.

“Of course. What’s not to love about Avery?” she asks, and I narrow my eyes at the scheming little bitch.

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