Chapter 54

Chapter 54
"Think you can kill me?"
Avery stared him down, her eyes arctic and unflinching.
"You seriously overestimate yourself," she said, subtly regulating her breathing while assessing her opponent. The man had skills, but nothing that would save him.
"Big talk from someone cornered, Avery!" The assassin laughed like he'd heard the punchline of the year. "What, you still think you're the legendary Queen of Assassins? That was three years ago, sweetheart. I've left you in the dust."
Avery's eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. "The cockiest ones always bleed out the fastest."
"Blood? Oh honey, the only blood spilling tonight will be yours." He advanced, his blade catching the dim light.
Their earlier scuffle had convinced him Avery was all defense, no offense. Nothing like the legends.
But in the next heartbeat, something in the air shifted.
"What the—"
Avery's expression remained perfectly neutral as she switched from defense to offense with whiplash speed. Her strikes turned lightning-fast and merciless, each one targeting vital points with surgical precision.
"You've been playing me!" The assassin backpedaled, the realization hitting too late.
Her attacks came like a hurricane, overwhelming him completely. Within sixty seconds, his body was a roadmap of knife wounds, the pain blurring his vision.
"Son of a—" His eyes bulged with terror as understanding dawned. "This was all a setup!"
Avery didn't bother responding. When she finally smiled, it held all the playful cruelty of a cat toying with a mouse.
"If you want answers," she purred, "ask the ghosts in hell." Her knife moved with even greater purpose.
The woman who once escaped an assassin squad and castrated the Alliance leader with her bare hands hadn't lost her touch. If she hadn't needed information, this would have ended much sooner.
Apparently, this man alone had tracked her hideout. Problem solved.
"No—" The assassin's protest died with him as Avery's blade sliced his throat with clinical precision.
Blood sprayed across the floor as he collapsed. His dying eyes locked onto Avery, who stood above him calmly wiping her blade clean, her expression as empty as a winter sky.
The villa fell silent again. Avery was mentally calculating body disposal logistics when a knock disrupted her thoughts.
"Who is it?" she called, approaching the door cautiously.
"It's me." Matteo's deep voice rumbled from outside.
He glanced at his watch, aware of the late hour. He'd assumed Avery would be asleep, but noticed the lights were still on.
Something about her voice sounded off—colder, more guarded than usual.
"I need the company safe key," he explained. "Left it here earlier. Need it now."
Avery's instinct screamed to refuse him entry. She'd just turned the place into a crime scene, for God's sake. Blood spatters still decorated the floor like abstract art.
With Matteo's bloodhound instincts, he'd smell death the moment he walked in. But this was his villa—she couldn't exactly lock out the owner.
"Bad timing?" Matteo asked when she hesitated.
She nodded quickly. "Just got out of the shower. Haven't exactly made myself decent."
The lie rolled off her tongue smooth as silk. "Mr. Ferrari, give me a minute?"
"...Fine." He hadn't expected the shower excuse. His Adam's apple bobbed visibly as his thick lashes lowered. "No rush."
He glanced up at the gathering storm clouds as the first raindrops began to fall.
Inside, Avery moved with silent efficiency, dragging the corpse to the bathtub. She wiped blood evidence with practiced precision—a skill set that had grown rusty after three years of playing house.
After everything looked passable, she dampened her hair and body with hot water before opening the door.
"Come in," she said, finding Matteo framed in the doorway.
Rain had darkened patches of his shoulders, and the dim light carved shadows across his chiseled features.
"Sorry for the wait." Avery innocently toweled her damp hair.
Water droplets clung to her skin, and her oversized shirt had strategic damp patches that hinted at curves beneath. She'd always had a killer body—something Matteo had thoroughly explored before—but he quickly averted his gaze.
"No problem." His voice had gone gravel-rough. He nearly laughed at himself. After everything they'd done together, he was acting like a teenager.
He headed straight for the bathroom. "The key's in there. I'll grab it."
Avery's entire body went rigid. The corpse was still soaking in the tub!
"Wait!" She darted forward, blocking his path before her brain caught up with her body.
She forced a teasing tone. "Are you messing with me? Nobody keeps safe keys in bathrooms."
Her eyes studied his reaction carefully. Had he somehow figured her out?
"I don't need to trick you," Matteo snorted. "There's a hidden compartment under the vanity specifically for valuables. The key's there."
He had zero interest in the bathroom itself—it just happened to be a good hiding spot.
Avery's anxiety ratcheted higher. "Let me get it for you," she insisted, fighting to keep her voice steady. "It's a disaster zone in there after my shower."