Page 20 of The Hitman's Forbidden Obsession

“You want a status update on your little job, Victoria? Fine. Here it is. The job’s off.”

“Excuse me?” Victoria’s sharp intake of breath makes me flinch.

“You heard me. I’m not hurting her. I’m not touching a single hair on her head. In fact, I’m going to spend every goddamn day making her smile. Making her feel safe. Loved. Worshiped.”

My breath hitches. My heart breaks.

“You little...”

“If you want your money back, feel free to take me to court. I’d love to hear you explain to a judge exactly what you paid me for.”

Another pause. A quiet one. I imagine her face, pale and furious.

“And just so we’re clear, every cent you gave me? I’m going to spend it on her. Designer clothes. Vacations. A diamond ring the size of your spiteful little heart. It’s all going to her.”

The glasses shake in my grip.

He’s not going to kill me.

That should be a relief. And in some way, it is. But it’s buried beneath so many layers of shock and betrayal and heartbreak that I can’t even feel it properly.

He’s a killer.

He was supposed to be my killer.

And now what? He just decided... not to be? Why?

The hands that touched me so tenderly are the same hands that have ended lives. And yet he says he loves me. That he wants to worship me.

I don’t know what to do with any of this.

My chest hurts so badly it feels like it might split in two.

I stumble back from the kitchen, trying to keep the glasses from clinking, but they still knock faintly together. The sound cuts through me like a blade.

I need to get out of here. Now.

I rush back down the hallway, tears falling freely. The moment I reach the dining room, I move straight to the table and set the glasses down far too hard. They shatter into pieces, and the sound is so jarring that Dad jerks his head up.

“Avery? Pumpkin, what’s wrong?”

But I can’t speak. My voice is gone, buried under the weight of everything I just heard. So I just shake my head and grab my purse with trembling hands.

“Avery!” he calls, alarmed. “Talk to me, pumpkin, please. Tell me what happened?”

But I can’t. I can’t talk. Can’t breathe.

I run.

The night air slaps my face as I burst outside. The porch lights blur through the flood of tears clouding my vision.

I fumble with my keys, dropping them once before I manage to shove them into the lock and climb into my car.

My hands are shaking so badly I can barely hold the wheel. I start the engine and pull away.

I don’t know where I’m going. I just know I can’t stay.

Chapter Eight

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