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I sip from my glass, raising a brow. “Just good?”

She pins me with a serious look. “You keep surprising me. Your arrogance, though, is nothing new.”

I chuckle. It’s refreshing how she challenges and antagonizes me, taunts and tantalizes me. I think I’ve met my match.

“Does it hurt?” she asks, glancing at my chest as we finish up.

I unbutton my shirt and her eyes lower with every inch I uncover, gulping. It takes everything in me to tone down my smirk.

She comes to my side and palms the reddish spot. It will leave a bruise. Even though the jacket stopped the bullet, I am not exempt from feeling the discomfort that is instantly forgotten. Her touch heats me up as if a fever overtakes my body.

“But you knew,” I say, my hoarse voice betraying how affected I am. Leaning back, my eyes fix on her.

Her finger glides down my chest, her nail scratching with the clear intent to leave her mark. “Oh, Enzo. I’d have to kill you before I confirm that.”

Enraptured by her, I watch her sashaying toward the elevator, my gaze stuck on her ass—round and perky. I want to bite into each cheek, mark her, and make her mine. But that is wishful thinking.

It’s been one week, and my timeline is getting tighter with each passing day and no new attempt at killing him. The only genuine attempt was the first time.

There’s always something holding me back, though I can’t comprehend what that something is. I hate it, yet it’s not enough to push me to do it. That alone should motivate me to end him, but it’s the opposite.

There’s just something about him that stops me every damn time. I constantly remind myself why I have to kill him. He can’t be the one thing to stand in my way of following through and finding out the truth. It needs to happen soon so I can pack my things and fly back to Italy, where I belong.

This bustling city feels more like home than Venice. Maybe it’s because no one cares who I am. Everyone is too concerned about themselves and having a good time or moving along with their days. I was smiled at more than in my entire life by totalstrangers. Even if I stare them down, their smiles don’t falter.

What started as a mission has turned into a slight obsession. He’s the first thing popping into my head when I wake up and the last thought following me into sleep—this stupid man who doesn’t want to accept the reality that he’ll die and soon.

There’s an intimacy that weaves us into an intricate web, making me forget myself when he’s near me. I’ve never needed anyone, and I’ve been cautious around people my entire life. I have held them at arm’s length for as long as I can remember. All I’ve ever wanted is to be alone, have my personal space, and be the ruler of my own life. Yet I seek his presence like I need it. It’s beyond my understanding and truly disconcerting.

A wave of frustration drags me to the bottom of my anguish. I am fighting to escape with no success.

My phone rings, pulling me out of my wayward thoughts. Adamo’s name flashes, each ring striking my conscience. I don’t want to talk to him, but I refuse to let this scumbag have even the slightest impression I am not following through. He’s a snake, and I am sure he’ll love to see me fall.

“What do you want?” I ask with a bite, keeping my tone neutral.

“Is it done already?” His voice rings of impatience, grating on my nerves.

“It’s done when I say it is.”

A long silence follows, and he lets out a grumble that pisses me the fuck off.

“Are you slacking, Luciana? You have two more days, or the deal is off.”

He hangs up, and I stare at the phone in sheer incredulity. Throwing it on the sofa, I let out a cry choked full of despair.

My restlessness gets the better of me. I move to the window, once again indulging in my forbidden fixation, wanting to find out why Enzo has such a pull on me. He’s a man and that alone should have been enough reason to remain unaffected. He’s a target and that should have kept him impersonal.

One week later, I am butchering this job, failing spectacularly.

My training should have made me into someone who doesn’t care about casualties.

My ambition should have prevented him from having any control over me.

My vow of celibacy should have stopped me from even allowing him in my vicinity, let alone permit him to touch me and enjoy it.

We had dinner as if it were a regular thing.

We talked as if we were on a date, getting to know each other better.