Chapter 4

• NATASHA
• “That bastard!” I yelled to no one in particular as I walked down the road that led to my home.
• Oh, I was infuriated. I was mad. I was so angry, and yet, I was incredibly turned on. I was a mess! I hated how pompously he acted, assuming that I enjoyed his touch. I hated even more that I really had enjoyed the touch.
• My head tingled as I recalled the way he had grabbed my hair. It had felt thrilling, I could swear I felt myself grow slick with desire. I couldn't help it, really. One minute I was furious with him, the next minute, I found myself wishing he would rip my top apart and just touch me where I needed him. My nipples begged desperately for his attention. For his hands.
• “Stop thinking about him!” I snapped at myself, quickening my steps home. I had to see Alisa. But before I did, I needed to take a bath and change into something presentable. My sister would lose her marbles if I stepped into her giant house wearing tattered jeans.
• I stepped into the house, took a quick shower and changed into the prettiest dress I had. It was a cream floral dress Alisa had bought some months ago. I never had any events to go to, and it wasn't exactly club material, so I rarely wore it.
• Taking a deep breath, I left the house, eager to see Alisa. I couldn't tell her about the job with Luca. But at least I could see her one last time before the week was over.
• Our life had been simple growing up. We lived in Russia and contrary to what plenty of people thought about Russian childhood, Alisa and I were raised in a happy home. We had the most amazing parents, they did everything they could do to make us happy.
• But it all ended when I turned fifteen. Alisa had barely marked her twelfth year when one night, men from the Russian Mafia barged into our home, murdered our parents and then kidnapped us.
• That was the end of a happy childhood. Everything that made me happy, died that night. Except Alisa.
• And I would do anything to protect that bit of happiness.
• The mafia boss had told them to send us to the brothel. The thought of Alisa getting abused in a lousy place disgusted me. So I had fought. And begged. And promised to do anything else as long as my sister would be kept separate from their world.
• The boss made a deal with me then. “I'll let your sister go, if you can prove your worth to me in a year.”
• I chuckled as I thought about my training days. I had worked my ass off. I had taken every blow, every kick to the head, gone through hell and back, but as long as Alisa could be kept safe. As long as Alisa could dream of a better future, a better world, I would be fine.
• When I turned sixteen, my first mission dropped. The Target was the son of a minister, and all I had was a pocket knife as a weapon. I had refused. I didn't think proving my worth meant I would have to kill someone. I thought all I needed to do was grow stronger. But when the boss held a knife to Alisa's neck, when I saw her blood slowly drip from the cut he had given her, I had accepted the mission.
• And I succeeded.
• And thus, deadly assassin Vera Ivanov was born.
• I couldn't count the number of people I had killed over the years. I never kept track of them. But it gave Alisa freedom, and she could live without worrying about anything.
• I had hoped that would be enough. I had hoped I was enough.
• I had come back home from a mission one day to see my eighteen-year-old sister packing her bags. She had scored a visa to the USA, and she wanted to leave.
• “I hate you,” she said. “I hate your work. I hate that everything we had is because you kill people for a living!”
• Alisa, the very person I had fought for, hated me. I did what any big sister in their right senses would do. I let her go. She moved to America, found a wealthy man who loved her and had a stable life.
• And that was enough for me, wasn't it? I thought, standing before the Cooper mansion. I always thought his last name sucked. Mathew Cooper. What kind of hellish name was that?
• Shaking my head, I pressed the bell on the gate. They must have seen me from their cameras because the gates slid open automatically and I stepped in. I had barely taken three steps in when my sister came running out of the house, screaming like a banshee, and threw herself on me.
• “Vera!”
• I winced at the name but held out my hand to hug her anyway. We stayed that way for a while before Mathew cleared his throat.
• “If anyone saw that, they would think I didn't treat her well,” He grumbled. Mathew was a dark - haired, twenty seven-year-old geek who was born into a wealthy family. He was into tech and shit, I didn't know exactly what and I didn't care. As long as he took care of Alisa. I was fine.
• “I'm sure you do your best Mathew,” I told him, smiling and turned to face my sister. She had my mother's gray eyes and round face. She was everything I wasn't. Innocent, happy and safe.
• And I wanted to keep it that way.
• “Come on, let's go in!” She cheered, and I shook my head, running a knuckle down her cheeks.
• “I just wanted to see you,” I murmured. “I just wanted to know you're safe.”
• Alisa frowned, exchanging looks with her husband. “I am safe. Why wouldn't I be?”
• Oh sweet, sweet Alisa. I wished she would remain just as she was. I wished she wouldn't hate me again.
• “I'm glad,” I told her, hugging her one last time. “I'm glad you're safe. I'll always keep you safe.”
• “Vera-”
• I pulled away to see the question on her face. Her eyes searched mine and then widened.
• “No!” She yelled, shaking her head rapidly.
• Shit! So much for being subtle. I hadn't wanted her to know!
• “Alisa, calm down-”
• “No. You won't. You can't do it!”
• “You're going to kill someone again, aren't you?!" She screamed, stepping away from me.