Page 19 of The Assassin


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It’s safe to say that both of them won’t win the “Parent of the Year” award anytime soon.

And as for my job, I’m no longer going around on missions. Just as I was about to hand in my resignation, I received a promotion and became a handler. It requires me to travel from time to time, but not as often as before, and definitely not as risky.

Lila prefers it this way, and while she likes ordering me around, my job is something she lets me decide for myself.

And it’s this job that kept me away from her for eight days, but I’m back. I’m here crouching behind the kitchen island, my heart pounding as I wait for her to come home from work.

The single-story farmhouse is eerily quiet, its silence amplified by the emptiness of the space. We moved in two weeks ago, and the rooms are still bare, save for the bed in the master’s bedroom, a wardrobe cabinet, and a few kitchen appliances.

My hands are slightly sweaty, the small red velvet box feeling heavier than it should be in my pocket. For the past twenty-four hours, I’ve gone over this moment a million times in my head. Now that it’s here, the nerves hit me in full force.

The sound of her keys jingling sends a jolt of adrenaline through me. This is it.

The door opens, her footsteps soft against the hardwood floors as she steps inside and draws closer to the kitchen. I take one last deep breath, forcing myself to calm down.

Jesus. Why is this more nerve-wracking and terrifying than going on a mission where I could wind up dead?

As she rounds the corner, I stand from the kitchen island, realizing my mistake a little too late. Lila doesn’t expect me to come home in three days, and here I am, a massive shadow from out of nowhere.

Her mouth opens in a scream, and before I can react, she grabs the vase sitting on the counter and hurls it at me with surprising accuracy.

Muscle memory is the only reason I was able to duck just in time. The vase sails past my head and shatters against the overhead cabinet, its pieces scattering across the floor.

“It’s me, baby. It’s me.” I raise both hands to show her I’m not holding anything.

Through the patches of light, Lila’s eyes are still wide with terror, her breath coming in quick, panicked bursts, her arms lifted in a defensive stance.

Her gaze locks onto mine, and when she realizes who I am, the fear in her eyes melts into shock, then relief, and finally, anger.

“Oh my God, Luca. I thought you were someone else!” Her voice is shaky as she drops her hands to her sides and lifts her face to the ceiling.

Okay, maybe not the reaction I’m hoping for, but I can work with this. That plan wasn’t my best. The moment I imagined so many times definitely didn’t include dodging flying ceramics. “That was a solid hit, baby.”

Lila props one hand on her waist, and the other runs through her hair. “It was, wasn’t it?”

“I’m sorry. I wanted to surprise you, not scare you half to death.”

She rests a palm over her heart and huffs out a breath. “For a pro, that was a huge misstep. Pretty bad planning if you ask me.”

“No disagreement from me on that.” I rub the back of my neck, all the rehearsed words flying out of my head. “This is not what I imagined it would be.”

Lila’s eyebrows furrow. “Imagined what? I thought you were supposed to be in Italy?”

“Like I said, I wanted to surprise you.” I close the distance between us, running a finger along her high but soft cheekbone.God, she’s so beautiful, and I have to pinch myself now and then to believe that she’s mine. All mine.

“What surprise?”

I sink to one knee and take out the box from my breast pocket, holding it up to her and flipping it open. Tears gather in the corner of her eyes, and I take her hand and kiss her palm. “I’ve loved you the moment I laid my eyes on you, Lila, and I will love you for the rest of my days. Even if it means dodging a few ceramics along the way.”

Lila lets out a shaky laugh and wipes her eyes with the back of her hand. “Luca…”

“I’m not the best man, and God knows I live in daily fear of you waking up and realizing you deserve so much more than me, but you’re still here three years later, so I guess you’re not going anywhere anytime soon.”

“No, of course not.”

“So, Lila, my beautiful Lila, will you marry?—”

“Yes!” she answers before I can finish. “Of course, it’s a yes.”

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