and no one else would ever come close to her.
She'd taken me from killer to victim in seconds. The second she looked into my eyes in the mirror and my name fell from her lips, I knew the true assassin here was her. This tiny, fearless woman who held a gun to her head because she knew it was her or me.
And now I knew. Now I knew why she disappeared. Why Enzio faked her and Alexandria's death. He could never admit what he'd done to the family or he'd be overthrown. Probably killed.
I wanted to kill him now.
I wanted to torture him for every day he'd forced her to be away. I wanted to slice every second's worth of pain I'd felt into his fucking sick skin until he had some kind of idea what he'd done.
I wanted to kill him slowly. So. Slowly.
I was vibrating with anger. I knew it. It took every ounce of strength I owned to keep it inside my body, to stop it running away and escaping. She didn't need to see the kind of monster I was deep inside.
She was already looking at me as though I was a stranger... Like she was scared of me.
“Don't,” I managed to get out without shouting. “Don't look at me like you fear me.”
Adriana swallowed hard and tightened her arms around her waist. “I don't,” she lied.
“You can't lie to me. You know it.”
“I couldn't,” she corrected me, her bright eyes finding mine. “Once upon a time. But this isn't a fucking fairytale, Hunter. I don't know who you are anymore.”
“You don't want to know who I am,” I told her honestly. “You won't like it.”
“That's the problem.” She paused, then reached up and pushed some stray hairs from her eye. “I do want to know who you are. I want to know how you changed so much that you could hold a gun to my temple.”
Disgust shot through my body.
Fuck.
I took a few steps back and sat on the sofa, next to the gun I'd brought in. That fucking gun. It was tainted. By her.
The worst part about that gun is that it may have killed her if she hadn't said my name.
If she hadn't looked into my eyes and said my name, I may have pulled that trigger.
I leaned forward, my elbows on my knees, and dove my fingers into my hair. Her eyes were hovering hesitantly on me, but I couldn't look at her. For the fucking first time in my life, I didn't want to look at her. I didn't want to see her opinion of me reflected back in her gaze. I didn't want to see the disgust and horror she undoubtedly felt.
“You're his assassin, aren't you?” she asked me softly, moving closer to me.
Only she could ask that and come closer.
I answered with a sharp nod.
“How long? Since you were eighteen?”
Another nod. Seven years. Seven damn years I'd been killing for him. Seven years I'd been an unfeeling human being, cold and heartless.
I had nothing to feel for, after all. I thought she was dead. Growing up in the mafia wasn't exactly a bright and sunny existence, but Adriana was that for me. She was the bright spot because she was untouchable to anyone.
Except apparently her father.
Just the thought of him made my fists clench in my hair.
“How many people has he made you kill?”
The question shocked me and I jerked my head up. Our eyes met instantly. “You don't want me to answer that question, principessa.”
“Don't call me that,” she whispered. “I'm not a princess, Hunter. Not anymore.”
“Your blood says differently. You know that as well as I do.”
“You expect me to accept what my blood tells me when you won't accept yours?” She wasn't whispering now. “If I didn't want you to answer the question, I wouldn't have asked it. You're a killer. You always have been.”
“And you're scared of me. Telling you how many people's blood coats my hands isn't going to help that.”
“I'm not afraid of you. You forget who gave you your name.”
“Yeah, you called me Hunter right after I hit a raccoon with a frying pan and killed it, all because it wanted your bacon sandwich. How manly.”
“You forgot to take the egg out of the pan, too. Its friend had that.” She smiled and looked down, tucking hair behind her ear again.
The look on her face made me smile. I couldn't help it. I could still remember how she'd laughed, her nine year