Top Assassins Call Me The Lady Boss

Chapter Two Hundred and Thirty-Nine

Ahmet stepped out of the shower, a towel hanging low around his waist as he dragged another through his wet hair.

His bedroom door clicked softly behind him.

He froze.

His eyes moved toward the door.

It was opening.

Slowly.

His hand tightened around the towel.

For one stupid second, his heart jumped. Nobody entered his room without knocking. He suspected who could be bold enough to enter without a knock and he was right.

She stepped inside.

Asli.

Everything inside him seemed to drop at once.

He looked away immediately.

Not because he didn’t want to look at her.

Because he wanted to look at her far too much.

His jaw tightened.

He could’ve still felt her presence without seeing her. He knew the quiet rhythm of her breathing. Knew the faint shift of her footsteps against the floor.

His fingers tightened around the towel until his knuckles paled.

How many days was it?

Eight? Fifteen? Was it fourteen days of avoiding her?

Fourteen days of standing outside her door at night and forcing himself not to knock.

Fourteen days of hearing her voice in his head... threatening him.

And now she was here.

His chest tightened painfully.

He wanted to turn around.

He wanted to see her face.

He wanted to ask whether she was eating. Whether she was sleeping. Whether she was still disappointed like he was. Whether she still hated him for pushing her to fall for him.

Instead, he stared at the wall.

Because every time he looked at her, he remembered.

The first time he’d touched her.

The first time she’d looked at him like he was the only person in the room.

The warmth of her body against his.

The baby.

His eyes squeezed shut.

A breath escaped him, shaky and quiet.

He hated himself.

There were moments when he wished he could tear the memories out of his mind and leave nothing behind.

But then he remembered her suppressed smile.

Her laugh when she thought he couldn’t hear her.

The way she used to say his name.

And the pain became unbearable.

He swallowed hard.

He couldn’t have her.

He couldn’t even allow himself to want her.

So why did every part of him still ache when she was near?

Behind him, the door clicked shut.

Ahmet’s shoulders stiffened.

He couldn’t turn around.

Not yet.

However, her silence hurt more than words could have. Ahmet kept his eyes fixed on the wall.

He was afraid to ask. ’How was the baby? Are you keeping it? Have you already made a decision?’

And the worst part was that he didn’t even know what answer he wanted.

His fingers tightened around the towel.

"What do you want?" he finally asked, his back still turned to her.

"I came to say hello."

Her voice was barely above a whisper.

"Don’t do this."

"Apparently, your parents think I’m the right person to talk to you about everything." She spoke so quickly that some of the words nearly blurred together. "They think you’d listen to me if I told you to stay alive for our child. Even when I also want nothing more than to kill him."

Ahmet’s head tilted slightly, confused.

"Speak well." What was she trying to say? A short silence followed.

"What is wrong with you people and making me speak properly?" she muttered. "I get it. You had proper training. I didn’t."

"That’s not what I meant."

"It’s fine." She sounded irritated now. "It’s not as if we grew up that differently. You and I are similar, yet your father makes it seem like I’m somehow worse."

"You like him." The words left Ahmet before he could stop them. His tone remained flat.

Almost indifferent.

But he knew Asli. He had watched her around Settimo for a few minutes.

He had seen the way her anger changed whenever the older man spoke to her. How she challenged him, then listened when he gave an order. How she watched him when she thought nobody noticed. How, despite all her complaints about being locked up, she’d softened whenever Settimo showed her even the smallest bit of affection.

And a few days ago...

He had seen the look in her eyes when Settimo called her his daughter.

She hadn’t admitted it.

She didn’t have to.

Ahmet knew that look.

She was beginning to want the man she had spent her entire life believing she had lost.

Could he blame her though? His father was one of the best f...

"We are not related." Asli dropped and he looked

Ahmet went completely still.

’We are not related.’ It rang in his head.

Then his fingers loosened around the towel.

"What?"

Asli didn’t repeat herself.

He slowly turned.

His eyes found hers, searching her face for the slightest sign that she was joking.

She wasn’t... Besides, she never joked so why would she finally do that with the most delicate matter?

His heart began pounding so violently he could feel it in his throat.

"No." The word came out before he could stop it. That was impossible. He had taken their samples for another test at a different hospital without them knowing and it still came out that Asli was his father’s daughter.

Asli held his gaze.

"No, what?"

"You’re..." He swallowed. "You’re my sister."

He said it like saying it aloud might make it true again.

The room suddenly felt too small.

His mind raced backward.

Every memory he had spent the fourteen days trying to bury came rushing back with brutal clarity.

Her body against his.

Her fingers in his hair.

The way she’d looked at him.

The way he’d looked at her.

He wished she was telling the truth. What he’d give to hear it was so.

"Don’t." His voice cracked. "Don’t say that."

"It’s the truth. But not what exactly you grew up knowing. Settimo is not your biological father."

He stared at her.

For years, he had been taught that Settimo was his father. Then recently that Asli was his sister. He had begun building a boundary around that.

And now she had just knocked all of them down with a few words.

His knees felt weak.

He took a step backward until his legs hit the edge of the bed.

He sat without realizing he was doing it. His hands went to his face.

A breathless laugh escaped him.

It wasn’t happiness nor relief.

Something somewhere between disbelief and madness.

His father had lied to him.

His entire life had been built around a lie.

And yet...

The shame he’d been drowning in for days suddenly had somewhere to go.

He could breathe.

God.

He could finally breathe.

His eyes burned.

Then another thought struck him.

The baby.

His head snapped up.

"Our baby..."

The words barely left his mouth.

He looked at Asli again.

For the first time since she entered the room, there was something dangerously close to hope in his eyes.

"You mean..." His voice trembled. "You mean I didn’t..."

He couldn’t finish.

He didn’t need to.

The realization hit him all at once.

He hadn’t slept with his sister.

He hadn’t destroyed his reputation.

He hadn’t committed the unforgivable thing he’d spent every waking moment punishing himself for.

He had loved a woman.

A woman he still loved.

His chest rose sharply.

His hand covered his mouth.

A tear escaped before he could stop it.

He had been one of the most feared men.

But in that moment, Ahmet couldn’t decide whether to thank his father for the truth and run out like a mad happy man...

...or scream at him for letting his son suffer beneath a lie.

Ahmet stared at her for another second. Then whatever was holding him back broke. He crossed the distance between them in two strides.

"Asli..."

His arms went around her.

He pulled her against his chest so suddenly she barely had time to react.

She stiffened.

Ahmet didn’t let go.

His face buried against her hair, his breath coming unevenly. His hands trembled where they rested against her back, as though he was afraid that if he loosened his grip, she’d disappear and the truth would disappear with her.

Fourteen days of believing that wanting her made him a monster. Now he held her like he had been starving.

Oh, he was.

His fingers curled gently into the fabric at her back.

A broken breath left him.

"You’re not my sister."

It sounded almost like he needed to hear himself say it.

Asli’s hands remained at her sides.

Then slowly, uncertainly, one of them lifted.

Her fingers caught the back of his shoulder.

Ahmet felt it.

His eyes closed.

That tiny touch nearly undid him.

He pulled back just enough to look at her.

Her eyes were wet.

So were his.

Neither spoke.

His gaze dropped to her lips.

He hesitated.

One heartbeat.

Two.

Then he leaned in.

His lips touched hers softly.

Almost cautiously.

As though he was giving her every opportunity to push him away.

When she didn’t, the kiss deepened.

Everything he’d spent two weeks forcing himself to forget came rushing back, but this time there was no shame attached to it.

His hand rose to her cheek. His thumb brushed beneath her eye.

He kissed her again, slower this time, his forehead resting against hers when he finally pulled away.

Their breaths mingled.

Ahmet let out a shaky laugh.

For the first time in days, his shoulders dropped.

Then his eyes fell to her stomach. His hand hovered for a moment before settling gently over it.

He lowered himself slowly, almost reverently, until he was on his knees before her.

Asli’s breath caught.

Ahmet looked up at her once, as though asking permission without saying a word.

Then he bent his head and pressed a gentle kiss against her stomach.

His lips lingered there.

Another kiss followed, softer than the first.

"I’m sorry," he whispered against her. "I shouldn’t have put your mum through all the stress."

His palm remained spread protectively over her stomach.

"I didn’t even know this could ever happen."

He kissed her stomach again, and this time a tiny smile touched his lips.

"But it’s over now. I’m here always."

Asli stared down at him.

The man who had once stood before her like an untouchable wall was kneeling at her feet, his forehead resting against her stomach as though the tiny life beneath his hand was the most precious thing in the world.

Ahmet closed his eyes.

"I’m going to protect you both." His voice was barely a whisper.

Then as if struck by lightning, "Wait a fcking minute!"

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