Top Assassins Call Me The Lady Boss

Chapter Two Hundred and Thirty-Four

It had been eight days. Eight unbearable days. Asli had counted every single one. The room wasn’t a prison.

It was worse.

A prison admitted you were a prisoner. This room pretended to be kindness. Every meal arrived on time. Every blanket was replaced before it grew cold. Every medicine she refused somehow returned to her bedside.

They treated her as though she were made of fragile glass.

She hated it. More than she hated the truth. More than she hated knowing Ahmet shared her blood.

She had threatened Settimo twice. The first time, she’d promised to shoot him the moment he unlocked the door.

The second time, she’d calmly informed him she’d burn the entire Villa to the ground if he kept her there another day.

The old man had simply looked at her regrettably. Then quietly told the guards to make sure she ate. She had never wanted to strangle someone so badly.

What made it worse...

...was the window.

It overlooked part of the estate.

Every morning she watched men training.

Cars coming and going.

Life continuing.

Ahmet.

Markus.

They walked freely across the compound while she remained trapped behind four walls.

The sight made something hot twist inside her.

She wasn’t a child.

She wasn’t sick.

She wasn’t broken.

So why was everyone acting as though she would shatter if the wind touched her?

She was beginning to feel punished. Punished for surviving. Punished for existing. Punished for carrying a child no one knew what to do with. Hell! She wanted to end it. It was an abomination and Settimo was preventing her from doing that.

Her jaw tightened.

None of those were her fault. She didn’t ask Marco to adopt her. She still didn’t know how it happened. Thinking about it only made her head ache. Neither was she the one who forced her alliance with Ahmet. So, why was she the one being locked while Ahmet was walking freely? She hated everyone more than she already did.

She was tuning her emotions down and locking them. Feelings were not something she dealt lightly with. She was only going to think with her head.

One more day...

Just one more...

...and she’d give them another reason to rebuild this Villa from ashes.

Settimo had given her the option; to behave properly and be let out of the room or continue acting this way and be locked forever. Regardless of what she chose, she was never going to leave the Villa because she had told everyone she was ending it immediately she stepped out.

She folded her arms and turned away from the window.

Could she ever be the Asli she was again? She wasn’t the only one changing.

She had seen Ahmet pass by her door when it was opened by the guards. He didn’t even spare a look into the room.

Ahmet had changed too. Even from a distance, she could see it. The hardness in his face had become something else. He looked exhausted.

Angrier.

As though sleep had abandoned him completely.

She heard the servants and guards whispering behind her door, Ahmet no longer laughed with Markus. He no longer spoke unless someone spoke first.

Sometimes he’d stop beneath her window without looking up...

...then walk away again.

At night...

She always knew when he came.

He never opened the door.

Never knocked.

He simply stood outside.

Sometimes he paced the corridor.

Sometimes he remained perfectly still.

She knew every one of his footsteps.

She knew the rhythm of his breathing.

She knew his scent even through the closed door.

She had memorized all of him without ever trying.

That realization hurt more than she cared to admit. She pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes. This wasn’t living. It was waiting.

Waiting for someone else to decide what became of her life.

She dropped her hands and stared at the locked door for a while before going back to the window.

Her patience had run out.

If they thought feeding her and locking her away would fix this...

...they had clearly forgotten exactly who she was.

Or maybe she forgot who she was.

The door suddenly opened quietly.

Asli didn’t turn.

She already knew someone had come in. The footsteps were lighter than the guards’. It was slower and hesitant.

Silence settled before the woman finally spoke. "...Hi." The greeting was so soft it barely reached the room.

Asli kept staring out the window. From the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of her. The older woman looked nothing like the elegant woman she’d first met.

Her shoulders had slumped. Her eyes were swollen.

She looked as though she’d aged years in a matter of days.

For the briefest moment, something tightened inside Asli’s chest. It was a dull ache.

Was it guilt? Sadness?

She hated it.

It had to be the pregnancy. It had to be.

"You should try to understand your father," the woman said gently. "He’s only trying to protect you."

A bitter laugh escaped Asli. "My father?" She turned then. "He’s not protecting me." Her eyes burned. "He’s protecting his name." She took a step closer. "He doesn’t want the world finding out his children committed incest."

The word echoed heavily between them.

"Open that door..." Her voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. "...and you’ll never have to see me again."

Confusion flickered across the older woman’s face. "No..." she said quickly, shaking her head. "No, that’s not why." She took a cautious step forward. "You’re too far along. Ending this pregnancy now..." Her voice trembled. "...it could take your life too."

She struggled to continue. "He... We can’t lose..."

"What do you care?" The words cracked like a whip.

The older woman fell silent. For a long moment, she simply looked at Asli.

Then, almost helplessly, she whispered, "...Because I’m your mother."

Something inside Asli lurched.

Again.

That invisible string tugged painfully at her heart.

She hated it.

She hated that those words could reach somewhere deep inside her. She hardened her expression. "No." Her voice was flat. "I don’t have one."

Pain flashed across the woman’s face. "I’m sorry," she whispered. "I’m so... so sorry." Tears welled in her eyes. "We believed you were gone." Her voice shook with every word. "If we’d known... if we’d known you were alive..." She swallowed hard. "We would’ve searched every corner of the world for you."

She wiped at her tears with trembling fingers.

"You don’t know what happened that night. Marco attacked the Villa. He killed so many people. He set everything on fire. The rest of us barely escaped. Your father was away on a mission..."

A sob interrupted her.

"And I..." She pressed a hand against her chest. "I fainted. When I woke up..." Her voice broke completely. "They told me my baby had died."

Asli stared at her.

Then frowned.

Something wasn’t adding up.

"How?" Her voice was accusing now. "How did Ahmet and Markus survive?"

She took another step. Her eyes locked onto the woman’s.

"How was I the only one left inside that fire? Marco may have started that fire..." Her jaw tightened. "...but he was the one who came back for me. You weak human! You know you have a daughter inside and you fainted at the sight of fire? Tell me, do you think you deserve to be a mother?" Her words jabbed at her own heart knowing if she heard her child say the same thing she would’ve cried too.

"I’m sorry..." the older woman whispered. The apology hung uselessly in her head.

Asli’s hand drifted instinctively to her stomach. A cold fear crept through her. If she kept this baby...

Would they one day hate her the way she’d spent these few seconds believing she hated the woman standing before her? The thought made her chest tighten.

"If you care about me as much as you claim," she snapped, "then let me out." Her voice rose with every word. "You wouldn’t keep me locked in here. You wouldn’t force me to keep this baby!"

"Ahmet is not your brother." The words landed so quietly, yet they hit harder than a gunshot.

Everything inside Asli stopped. She stared... really stared, waiting for her laugh but it didn’t come.

"...What?"

The older woman’s eyes brimmed with fresh tears. "We wanted to take this to our graves," she admitted. "We thought... we never thought... of all the women in the world, he ended up with you."

"What is wrong with me?" Asli snapped.

"No. No. Not that. I mean, if he had fallen for someone else, we wouldn’t have to explain how you two got related or anything." She shook her head. "I’m so happy you are alive. I wish I could keep quiet about this but I can’t. Not when you’re hurting. I can’t."

Her voice broke.

"I can’t watch my daughter destroy herself over a secret we want to keep. Ahmet is not your brother. Don’t get me wrong, he is my son."

Confusion exploded inside Asli’s head. Her brows knitted together. She took a step forward.

"No, that’s not what you said."

A few days ago they had stood together and called both of them their children.

Now...

Now she was saying Ahmet wasn’t her brother.

And in the same breath...

...she was calling him her son.

Nothing made sense anymore. Her fingers twitched at her sides. She wanted to grab the woman by the shoulders and shake her, demanding the truth.

’Am I carrying my brother’s baby or not?’ she wanted to ask.

The older woman drew in a shaky breath.

"Settimo was away on a mission with his best friend when Marco attacked. He struck both Villas on the same night. I was pregnant..." She closed her eyes. I lost the baby."

A tear slipped down her cheek. "And I believed I’d lost you too. You were asleep in your room. Markus was outside training."

She swallowed painfully. "Ahmet’s mother and his aunt, they died before the men could return. As for his father..." Her voice almost disappeared. "He was Settimo’s best friend and when he asked Settimo to help with his mission, he agreed. They’ve been helping each other out. When Ahmet’s father found out you died, he couldn’t bear the pain adding up. He went after Marco and got killed. I was heartbroken. I had lost my daughter and the one on the way, I couldn’t help but raise Ahmet as my own. He was like a son to me. Settimo had brought him shaken up and afraid. He had watched as his family was killed. He has been having nightmares but we had him believe it was a phase. Luckily his only friend Markus has his own nightmares so he believed till now. I didn’t replace you with him. I love Ahmet as if he were my son."

She stopped and silence filled the room.

"There was no one left for Ahmet." She smiled sadly through her tears.

The room spun. Relief crashed into Asli so suddenly she almost stumbled.

He wasn’t...

Her baby wasn’t...

The thought barely formed before another emotion slammed into it.

Rage.

White-hot.

Violent.

Marco had lied to her.

Every lie.

Every story.

Every memory.

She froze.

Her breathing hitched.

"...Wait." Her voice was barely audible. Her eyes slowly lifted. "I’ve heard this before."

The older woman frowned.

Asli’s face drained of color. "Marco..." She shook her head in disbelief. "He told me that story."

Every word came slower than the last. "He said it happened to me."

A bitter laugh escaped her.

"He told me my father left on a mission with him. He told me my mother and aunt were killed and burned. He told me I was hiding in there and watched everything, and before I could be caught and killed by Settimo, I got rescued by him."

Her breathing became uneven. "He..." Her lips trembled. "He gave me Ahmet’s life and told me it was mine."

Then came a long, suffocating silence.

Asli whispered, "The son of a bitch raised me to hunt my own family."

Her eyes filled with hatred. "He made me believe Settimo murdered my parents when all along he was the one who stole me."

A tear slid silently down her cheek.

"How..." Her voice cracked. "How can one man be this wicked?"

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