HIS CONTRACTED ASSASSIN

THE FIRST CUT

The lights came back on three seconds later, but something in the room had already shifted. Julian stood inches from me, his breath warm against my cheek, and the look in his eyes had changed. Less cold. More hungry. I didn't know which version scared me more.

“The power doesn't just flicker in a building like this,” I said, stepping back. “Someone cut it.”

Julian's jaw tightened. “Vivienne has friends in maintenance. She likes to make a point.” He walked to the window, staring down at the city. “She wanted you to see her walk in and out like she owns the place. It's a game.”

“A game you're losing.”

He turned, and his smile was sharp. “I never lose, Mrs. Ashford. I just let my enemies think they're winning.” He crossed back to me, close enough that I had to tilt my head up to hold his gaze. “Tomorrow, you come with me to the board meeting. You sit beside me. You smile when I tell you to smile. And when Vivienne tries to provoke you, you say nothing.”

“You want me to be a decoration.”

“I want you to be a silent weapon.” His finger traced my collarbone, featherlight. “Vivienne will try to make you react. She'll bring up the contract. She'll mention your sister. She might even mention your father.” His hand dropped. “Can you handle that?”

I thought of my grandmother's training. Never show them your teeth until you're ready to bite. “I can handle it.”

“Good.” Julian walked toward the hallway, then paused. “Your sister is out of surgery. The doctors say she'll wake up in a few hours. I already arranged for you to visit tomorrow after the meeting.” He didn't look back. “Get some sleep. You'll need your strength.”

He disappeared into the darkness of the hallway, and I stood there alone in the dining room, the half-eaten soup growing cold on the table.

My phone buzzed. Evelyn.

What happened? I heard Vivienne paid a visit.

I typed back with shaking thumbs. How do you know about Vivienne?

A long pause. Then: Because I told her where to find you.

The air left my lungs. My grandmother had sent Vivienne. The woman who wanted Julian back, who hated me on sight—she was working with Evelyn? I stared at the screen, waiting for more, but the message never came.

I climbed the stairs to my bedroom on legs that didn't feel like my own. The white sheets were cold when I slipped between them, and I lay there staring at the ceiling, trying to piece together what my grandmother was doing.

Vivienne was supposed to be my enemy. Julian had said she was dangerous, that she knew things that could destroy him. If Evelyn was using her, then the plan had changed. And no one had told me.

Sleep came in fragments, broken by nightmares of my mother's face and Julian's silver eyes. At six in the morning, a knock on my door pulled me back to reality.

Elara stood in the hallway with a black dress over her arm. “Mr. Ashford says you wear this today. He'll meet you in the car in thirty minutes.”

The dress was elegant, modest, and completely forgettable. Beige silk that wouldn't draw attention, wouldn't cause gossip, wouldn't make anyone look twice. Julian wanted me invisible.

I put it on, pulled my hair into a low bun, and walked to the elevator.

Julian waited in the back of a black SUV, his eyes scanning a tablet. He didn't look up when I slid in beside him. “You're learning.”

“To follow orders?”

“To understand your role.” He set the tablet aside and finally looked at me. His gaze traveled from my face to my shoes and back again. “You look like a librarian. It's perfect.”

“Was that a compliment?”

“It was an observation.” The car pulled away from the curb. “The board meeting is at Ashford Tower. Twelve men and three women, all of them vultures. They've been circling my company since my father died.” He paused. “Vivienne sits on the board. Her father owns fifteen percent of Ashford Industries.”

My stomach dropped. “So she has power.”

“She has leverage. Which is why you will not engage with her.” Julian's hand found my knee, squeezing once, hard. “Let her talk. Let her threaten. You smile and stay silent. Do you understand?”

“I understand.”

“Good.” He pulled his hand back, and the warmth of his touch lingered on my skin. I hated that I noticed.

Ashford Tower was sixty stories of glass and steel, a monument to the Ashford ego. Julian walked through the lobby like he owned it—because he did—and I followed half a step behind, exactly where he wanted me.

The boardroom was at the top. A long mahogany table surrounded by leather chairs, each one filled with a person who looked at me like I was a bug under a microscope.

Vivienne sat at the far end, her red dress swapped for a white pantsuit that screamed power. She smiled when she saw me. “Mrs. Ashford. How lovely to see you again.” Her voice dripped with sweetness that tasted like poison. “I hope you enjoyed your first night in the penthouse. The master bedroom has the best view.”

Julian pulled out a chair for me, right beside him. “Vivienne, save the pleasantries. We have a quorum.”

The meeting dragged for two hours. Numbers, acquisitions, stock prices—words that blurred together into meaningless noise. I kept my face neutral, my hands folded in my lap, my eyes on Julian whenever I needed a cue.

He never looked at me. Not once.

But his hand found my knee under the table, and he left it there, warm and heavy, for the entire meeting.

When the last agenda item ended, the board members filed out, murmuring among themselves. Vivienne stayed behind, her eyes fixed on Julian's hand on my knee.

“You're more obvious than usual,” she said, standing up. “Is the little wife really that entertaining?”

Julian's fingers tightened. “She's my wife. You're my ex-fiancée. There's nothing more to discuss.”

“Except the clause in your father's will.” Vivienne walked around the table toward us. “The one that says if you don't produce an heir within eighteen months of marriage, the company reverts to the board.” She stopped beside me, close enough that I could smell her perfume. “Tick tock, Julian. You're not getting any younger.”

She turned to leave, then paused at the door. “Oh, and Lena? Your grandmother says hello.”

The door closed behind her.

I couldn't breathe. Julian's hand left my knee, and he stood up, his face unreadable. “What did she mean by that?”

“I don't know.” The lie came out smooth, automatic. “I've never met my grandmother.”

Julian studied me for a long moment. Then he nodded slowly. “Vivienne lies. It's what she does.” He walked to the window, his back to me. “But if she knows something about your family, I want to know about it first. No secrets between us, Lena. Not in this marriage.”

No secrets. The irony burned in my throat. “Of course.”

“We're going to the hospital now. You have one hour with your sister.” He turned, and his expression had softened, just barely. “Then we go home. Together.”

The hospital smelled like antiseptic and fear. Kavya lay in a private room, wires attached to her chest, a ventilator breathing for her. But her color was better. The surgery had worked.

I sat beside her bed, holding her limp hand, and whispered everything I couldn't say. “I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I did this to you. I made you sick so I could get close to him.” Tears slid down my cheeks, and I didn't wipe them away. “When this is over, I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. I promise.”

Kavya's fingers twitched. Her eyes fluttered open.

“Meera?” Her voice was a rasp, weak and confused. “Where am I?”

“You're safe.” I squeezed her hand. “You're going to be okay.”

“The man,” she whispered. “The one who paid for everything. He came to see me before the surgery.” Her eyes focused on mine, and something in her gaze shifted. “He said you belong to him now. Is that true?”

I opened my mouth to answer, but the door opened behind me.

Julian walked in, filling the small room with his presence. He stopped at the foot of Kavya's bed, his eyes moving from my sister's face to mine.

“She's awake,” he observed. “Good.”

Kavya stared at him, unblinking. “You're the man who bought my sister.”

Julian didn't flinch. “I'm the man who saved your life. There's a difference.”

“Is there?” Kavya's voice grew stronger, surprising both of us. “Because from where I'm lying, you look like every other rich monster who takes what he wants.”

Julian smiled. It was the first genuine smile I had seen from him—not cruel, not cold. Almost respectful. “You have fire, little one. I like that.” He looked at me. “Five more minutes. Then we leave.”

He walked out, and the door clicked shut.

Kavya grabbed my wrist, her grip surprisingly strong. “Listen to me. I heard the nurses talking. That man's father killed someone. A woman. Years ago.” Her eyes drilled into mine. “You can't stay married to him, Meera. He's dangerous.”

My heart stopped. “What did you say?”

“His father. The old man Ashford. He murdered someone and covered it up.” Kavya's voice dropped to a whisper. “The nurses said the victim's family is still looking for revenge.”

I couldn't breathe. My grandmother had told me the same story my whole life. But hearing it from a stranger's lips, in a hospital room, made it real in a way it had never been before.

Julian's father killed my mother.

And Julian had no idea that he had married the daughter of his father's victim.

“I have to go,” I said, standing up. “I'll come back tomorrow.”

“Meera.” Kavya's voice followed me to the door. “Be careful. Please.”

I walked into the hallway, where Julian waited against the wall. He pushed off and fell into step beside me, his shoulder brushing mine.

“She doesn't like me,” he said.

“She doesn't trust anyone.”

“Smart girl.” We walked toward the elevator in silence. Then, just before the doors opened, Julian stopped. “Lena. About what Vivienne said. Your grandmother.”

My blood turned to ice.

“I ran a background check on you before the wedding,” he continued. “It said both your grandparents died before you were born.” His silver eyes pinned me in place. “So why does Vivienne think you have a grandmother who says hello?”

The elevator doors opened. A man stepped out—tall, dark-haired, with the same gray eyes as Julian.

“Brother,” the man said, smiling. “I see you've met my new daughter-in-law.”

Julian went pale. “Marcus. What are you doing here?”

Marcus Ashford's smile widened. “I came to meet the woman who finally trapped you.” He looked at me, and his gaze was hungry in a way that made my skin crawl. “Hello, Lena. I'm your husband's half-brother. And I know exactly who your grandmother is.”

The hospital hallway spun around me.

“Because,” Marcus said, stepping closer, “I'm the one who's been paying her for the past ten years.”

Julian's hand shot out, grabbing Marcus by the collar. “Explain. Now.”

Marcus didn't struggle. He just kept smiling at me over Julian's shoulder. “Ask your wife who she really is. Ask her why she married you. Ask her what her grandmother has been planning since the day your father died.” He pried Julian's fingers off his shirt, one by one. “Go ahead. I'll wait.”

I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. Couldn't think.

Marcus turned and walked toward the elevator, pausing at the doors. “When you're ready to hear the truth, Lena, call me.” He handed me a business card. “I'm not your enemy. And your grandmother? She's been lying to you your whole life.”

The elevator doors closed.

Julian stood frozen beside me, his chest rising and falling with each breath. “Lena. Look at me.”

I couldn't.

“Look at me,” he repeated, and his voice cracked.

I raised my eyes to his.

“Who are you?” he asked.

And in that moment, standing in a hospital hallway with the ghost of my mother between us, I realized I didn't know the answer anymore.