My Husband, the Assassin

Chapter 019

Sophia nodded to herself, satisfied with her handiwork on the ruined heart, and dug in without a second thought.

William watched her with a quiet smile.

The moment the first bite hit her tongue, she froze. The flavor was bright and comforting—exactly like the fried eggs her grandmother used to make back in the countryside when she was little. Rich, simple, perfect.

How the hell did this guy pull this off?

She couldn’t wrap her head around it. The laid-back slacker who’d shown up in beach shorts could cook like this? Impossible.

Still, she didn’t slow down. Manners be damned—she demolished the plate in minutes.

When it was gone, she reached over without a word and stole William’s portion, attacking it just as eagerly.

William’s smile widened. He’d known she’d love it. Even scarfing down breakfast, she looked stunning.

Once the second plate was empty, a faint sheen of oil glistened on her lips. William grabbed a napkin and leaned in. “Here, wife—let me get that for you.”

Sophia shot him a withering glare, snatched the napkin from his hand, and wiped her mouth herself.

She stood to leave, but his surprised voice stopped her. “Oh no—looks like you just used the one I wiped my mouth with.”

Her back stiffened. Face turning thunderous, a wave of nausea hit her. She bolted upstairs, the sound of furious rinsing echoing from the bathroom.

William blinked after her. She actually believed that?

By her eleventh furious rinse, he appeared in the doorway, grinning. “What are you doing, wife?”

The thought of sharing his napkin sent fresh rage surging through her. She hurled the mouthwash cup straight at his head.

He caught it effortlessly, flashing a toothy smile. “Easy—that temper’s bad for your health.”

“You bastard—this isn’t over!” She stormed toward him and aimed a vicious kick between his legs.

William reacted instantly, clamping his thighs around her ankle. Her skirt rode up, exposing one smooth, flawless leg to his stunned gaze.

“Whoa,” he said, eyes wide. “Safety shorts at home? Seriously?”

Sophia’s face burned crimson. She gritted her teeth, furious with herself for needing the precaution in the first place. “To keep perverts like you at bay! Let go!”

“Not happening,” he said, voice low and teasing. “You’ll just kick me again.”

Cheeks flaming, she swung her left hand in a sharp slap.

It missed by inches.

He didn’t even dodge—just watched as her momentum threw her off balance. She pitched forward, about to crash to the floor.

“Told you not to swing at me,” he muttered, stepping in quickly. One hand caught her shoulder, the other braced her waist.

The feel of her—slim, warm—stopped him cold.

“Get your hands off me!” Sophia snarled, shoving at his right arm. It fell away, but his left stayed firm on her shoulder.

He wasn’t letting go.

Furious, she dug her nails into his side.

He didn’t even flinch—just stood there with that infuriating smirk.

“Let go!” she snapped again. She couldn’t believe it—a simple hand on her shoulder and her brain short-circuited.

How was her self-control this weak around him?

William was lost in the softness of her skin when her sharp command snapped him back. He’d been staring far too long—and at things he definitely shouldn’t.

“I was just steadying you,” he said quickly, releasing her. “We’re right by the door—you almost fell again. Don’t get the wrong idea.”

“You’d better not have one,” she shot back.

But then she noticed the dazed look in his eyes and realized how close they were.

Close enough that any small movement would bring them flush together.

She could hear his breathing—rough, quick.

She could practically feel the heat rolling off him.

He felt the same.

Their eyes locked, the air thick with the kind of tension that belonged in movies right before the kiss.

A soft click broke the spell—Nora’s door opening.

Nora stepped out, rubbing sleep from her eyes, and froze at the sight: William and Sophia inches apart, staring like the world had narrowed to just the two of them.

Her jaw dropped. Eyes wide, she barely stopped herself from gasping out loud.

Are they about to kiss?

Or… did they already?

William caught the shock on Nora’s face and instantly read her thoughts.

Sophia turned, saw her cousin, and felt her already-burning face go nuclear.

“You jerk!” Mortified, she raked her nails down his forearm—hard.

William hissed in pain, feeling the sting as blood welled under the scratches.

Sophia stormed off without another word, slamming her bedroom door so hard the walls shook.

“Damn,” William muttered, shaking his head. “Was that really necessary?”

Nora cleared her throat, then asked seriously, “William… did you just take advantage of her?”

He threw up his hands. “Absolutely not. She tried to hit me, missed, and almost fell. I caught her—that’s it. Trust me, if I was trying to cop a feel, I’d have aimed higher.”

He sounded almost disappointed he hadn’t.

Nora’s eyes widened further—then dropped to his arm. “Oh no—your arm’s bleeding!”

She rushed over, gently draping his injured arm over her shoulder. “Come on, let me clean it up.”

William opened his mouth to protest—it was barely a scratch—but the words died when he realized she was pulling him toward her room.

Curiosity won. He followed without complaint, eager for a peek inside Nora’s private space.