Top Assassins Call Me The Lady Boss

Chapter Two Hundred and Twenty

The phone slipped from her fingers. Ahmet caught it before it hit the floor. But Asli didn’t even notice. Her ears were ringing and the air remained charged.

The voices, the walls, and the people around her were so close.

Yet somehow, they all felt far away.

Very far away.

She just stood there.

Motionless.

Her father’s voice still echoed in her head.

"Bring back my daughter. I have plans for her."

Plans.

The word itself made her stomach turn.

Her lips parted, but no sound came out.

No.

No.

No.

Her father was many things.

Cruel.

Ruthless.

Terrifying.

Men feared him.

Women crossed themselves when his name was mentioned.

She had wanted to be more than he was. She was equally feared and once upon a time she had loved it.

He had blood on his hands. Enough blood to drown cities. She had known that since she was a little girl. Had accepted it. Embraced it. She had sharpened her knives under his guidance.

Learned to kill under his watch. Never once pretending he was a good man.

But this?

Her breathing faltered.

This...

This had never crossed her mind. Never. Not once.

Not even in her worst nightmares. She remembered learning about Cole’s parents. About Daniel’s family.

About entire lives destroyed because one man wanted control.

And she had spent nights lying awake, wondering if Ahmet was right.

Wondering what else she didn’t know. Wondering how many graves of innocent families her father had left behind.

But this?

No.

Even then...

Even then, she had never imagined this. If someone else had told her...

She would’ve killed them.

If anyone had accused Marco of such a thing before Ahmet did, she would’ve walked away.

Hell! Ahmet had just told her and she was minutes away from quarrelling until the alarm came.

Was her father this ruthless?

This was a man she had spent her entire life trying to make proud. The man whose approval she had chased with every mission completed. The man who had taken her in, fed her, clothed her, and turned her into the assassin she was.

She had respected him.

He was a perfect father to her. She believed that.

None of his dealings had ever shocked her. She had accepted those parts of him. She couldn’t believe she had grown up wanting to be more than he was.

But this?

This wasn’t cruelty. This wasn’t power. This was something else.

Something filthy. Something that made her stomach twist.

Because that woman...

That woman couldn’t even walk, couldn’t talk, or even move.

She was half-conscious.

Defenseless.

And if he hadn’t screamed those words himself...

If anyone else aside from Ahmet had accused him, she would have cut out their tongue for saying it.

That was what frightened her most. Not that Marco was capable of such evil. But that she would have defended him.

Her chest tightened painfully. She remembered how fiercely she had protected him and defended him.

A shiver ran down her spine. She wrapped her arms around herself, backing away from Ahmet because she couldn’t let go of the memory that had just surfaced. The day she had found Matilda’s mother shaking and crying. The terror in her eyes as she shook violently. The tears were streaming down her face.

The way her fingers had clawed at the blanket as though she were trapped somewhere only she could see.

Asli had called the doctor.

She remembered that.

She remembered standing beside the bed, impatiently asking what was wrong.

And the old doctor... the Villa’s doctor had simply adjusted his glasses and assured her there was nothing serious.

"An episode," he had called it.

Stress. Trauma. Nothing unusual.

And she had accepted it. Because why wouldn’t she?

He had been with the Villa longer than she had. He had patched up wounds, stitched broken bones, and delivered medical opinions that no one questioned.

Certainly not her.

She had nodded and moved on.

Moved the fck on.

Her stomach twisted violently.

How many times had that woman reacted that way?

Every.

Single.

Time.

Whenever her father was a sight away from her, she trembled.

And Asli had brushed it off.

Again.

And again.

And again.

"It’s just Father." She’d say.

"She’s frightened of everyone." Her Nanny would add.

"She doesn’t know what she’s doing." They’d conclude.

God.

Her knees weakened.

Ahmet’s arm immediately tightened around her waist.

But she barely felt him.

She was half-conscious for God’s sake! She still couldn’t believe it.

She was unable to even run. Unable to fight. Unable to scream.

Asli felt bile rise in her throat.

"No..." Her voice broke.

And then came the thought that shattered whatever remained inside her.

What if he had done it to many women?

Her hand flew protectively to her stomach.

Instantly.

Instinctively.

Her baby.

She was never going back.

"Plans for..." it echoed again inside her head.

She wasn’t seeing herself anymore.

She was seeing Matilda.

That cheerful little girl.

That annoying, stubborn, endlessly smiling child who allowed herself to be bullied.

Matilda.

Who complained about vegetables?

Who argued over hairstyles and how tired she was of washing her own hair because there were no salons at the Villa and she had no extra time outside of what she had for school.

Asli knew that nothing she did now could erase years of fear from that woman. She couldn’t just stand there.

Wiping her sweat away from her face with the back of her hand, she inhaled sharply and forced herself to breathe. Then she gently pulled away from Ahmet completely.

The sudden distance made his brows knit together.

"Happy now?" she snapped.

Her voice came out harsher than she intended.

Ahmet blinked. "Happy?" he repeated quietly. "What exactly am I supposed to be happy about?"

She laughed bitterly. "That you were right." Her eyes were red. "Congratulations." She spread her hands helplessly. "You win. My father is a monster."

Ahmet’s expression hardened in pain. "Asli."

"No, isn’t this what you’ve wanted?" she asked, her voice cracking. "To prove me wrong? To prove that your father is innocent and mine is evil."

His jaw tightened. "My father is not an innocent man. He is only innocent of whatever your father is accusing him of. Regardless of how much I wanted to prove what kind of man your father is..." he said quietly, "...I’m not happy."

His eyes drifted toward the door as if he could see Matilda’s mother. "Not about this." His voice had lowered. "Not if it means she suffered."

Asli swallowed hard then nodded once.

A shaky breath escaped her. "I’ll be back."

Both men looked at her.

"When I return, I want to hear everything about him." Her voice had gone cold. "Everything you found out about my father, I want to hear it all today." She turned.

"And where exactly do you think you’re going?"

Ahmet’s voice stopped her.

There was worry written plainly across his face.

She didn’t even turn around. "Don’t worry, I won’t kill him." She paused, then resumed, "I am off to kill the doctor." The words came out calmly and casually. "The bastard."

Ahmet’s eyes widened. But before he could speak,

"No." Markus’ voice cut through the air.

The two of them turned.

He was no longer looking at anyone. His eyes had gone somewhere dark. Somewhere ugly. His fists had clenched so tightly that the veins in his arms stood out.

"That won’t be necessary." His voice was almost gentle. Which frightened Asli more? Because Markus wasn’t shouting. He wasn’t cursing.

He wasn’t pacing. He was perfectly still. He looked opposite his tone.

Slowly, he lifted his eyes. "Because I’ll be doing that." The deadly calm in his voice sent a chill down the room.

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