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“Yeah?”
“He’s going to look at which neighborhoods in the city are best for it. Watch him buy it for us,” I laughed.
“You enjoy this, don’t you?” she asked, and I swallowed hard.
“I do. I’m really good at it,” I replied. Her eyes searched mine for something. I wondered what she was looking for. Did she buy my story? Did she know Dean had found me once again?
Did she realize I’d been fucked in Daddy’s bed all evening?
I smiled and cocked my head to the side. I needed to distract her from whatever she was thinking about right now.
“What did you do while I was away getting to know our mark?”
“I was checking in with a few various projects of mine,” she responded.
“Are those projects secret?”
“Not really… Maybe some of them,” she answered thoughtfully. Wherever her mind was, it was far away.
I sat down at the table with her, having to do everything in the world to hide the wince that threatened to show all over my face once I pressed my sore bottom against the seat of the chair. She had a laptop open in front of her. I put my elbows on the table and my chin in my palm, watching her as she typed away at something on her screen.
“Is there one you can tell me about? I’d like to understand more about what you do, rather than just the assassination stories I’ve heard about for so long,” I pressed.
She sat back and her eyes searched mine.
“You really want to know?”
“I do. The better we know each other, the easier it will be to take down our mark. For better or for worse, we’re partners now.”
Her expression softened.
So, she was human.
I was even more relieved to know that Dean wasn’t going to kill her.
“I don’t like killing people, Willow. I do it because I have to.”
I stared at her for some time before I finally figured it out.
“The Father holds something over you too, doesn’t he?”
She was silent for a long moment. I’d hit the nail on the head.
“He’s owned me for all my life,” I began. “From the day I was left on his doorstep, he’s owned every facet of everything I’ve ever done, from my schooling, to my job, to all the things in between. I have no parents. No siblings.”
I gave her a bit of vulnerability and her eyes searched mine. In that moment, I looked at her not as my partner or someone to fear. She became a mark to me just like all the rest.
“I have no one, which makes me ideal for the work that I do.”
She turned away, but I’d caught something else in her expression at that moment.
Regret.
“What is it?” I urged gently.
“He has my daughter,” she whispered.
“I’m so sorry,” I breathed. “How old is she?”
