Page 23 of Angelic Vengeance

Natalia laughed. “You so would though!”

CHAPTER 8

16 years old

THE NEXT TIME I OPENED my eyes, I was in a hospital bed. I winced, twisting my neck to look around the room, but I was alone. I had multiple IV drips in me and my whole body ached. As I tried sitting up, I lost focus in my eyes and slumped back against the pillows.

Holy shit. What did they give me?

Giggling, I lifted the long IV tube, before falling back asleep.

I was still in the hospital bed when I regained consciousness, missing the IVs. I groaned, straightening up, and although I was dying to eat, I didn’t touch the food on the bedside table. Who knew what was in it? Poison? Maybe. Still, blinding pain shot through my stomach; I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been this hungry.

I froze when I realized I wasn’t alone. A shadow moved in the corner of my eye, and before I could even stop myself, I grabbed the fork from the tray and threw it at the intruder – all in a split second.

The metal sliced through the air but at the last moment, the woman caught it in her hand with extreme precision; the sharp tips of the cutlery merely inches fromher eyeball. Her hand covered my view of her face, but when she spoke, her voice washed over me like a bucket of ice water.

“Impressive recovery for a severely hospitalized patient.” She lowered her arm, allowing me to take in her features. “But you’ve always been a fighter, haven’t you, Angela?”

She cupped my tiny red face between her soft hands and wiped away my tears.‘You’re safe now,ángel.’

“Surprised to see me?” Mrs. Ruiz, my former social worker, stood in the center of the room.

I could feel my eyes narrow the more the silence stretched. I watched her every single movement with pure confusion. Had anything even happened? Was it all a dream? Did I somehow start doing drugs and ended up overdosing with no memory of anything?

“Glad to see you’re feeling better.” Ruiz smiled, taking a seat in the empty armchair. A folder rested in her lap. Her pantsuit was perfectly tailored and her dark hair looked professionally curled, framing a soft face of perfectly applied makeup.

“Where am I?”

“U.S. Embassy – Havana, Cuba.”

I took a deep breath, running my hands down my face. So, itdidhappen. The fact that I survived was pure luck and a fucking miracle. Still, I couldn’t understand what Ruiz was doing here.

“I think it’s time I properly introduced myself.” She dug into her blazer, pulling out a fancy badge. “Agent Ruiz, United States Federal Government.”

What the hell…

I didn’t respond; just watched her carefully. I knew she worked for the government, she was a social worker. But calling herself ‘agent’…

“You might’ve heard of something called the Central Intelligence Agency.”

C.I.A.

My jaw slowly unhinged.

“I run an…Off-griddepartment that specializes in eliminating high-value targets and conducting covert operations to protect the United States’ interests.”

“You kill people for a living,” I deadpanned. Ruiz in that beige room was one of my first memories.

She gave me a knowing smile. “The preferred term isassassin.”

“Why pretend to be a social worker?”

“I was… On an assignment.”

She’d lied to me my whole life, yet still tiptoed around the truth. I didn’t appreciate it.

“Pretty sadistic if you ask me.” My tone was sharp, allowing a rare expression into the anger and hurt of her betrayal.