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"Did he hurt you?" Konstantin asks urgently, his gaze sweeping over me. I shake my head quickly.

"I'm fine," I assure him. "But we need to move. If he's here, there might be others. He might have called for backup. We need to go."

We break into a run, heading for where Konstantin left his vehicle. We make it halfway to the car before they catch up with us—a black SUV screeching to a halt at the end of the alley, four men pouring out with weapons drawn. We turn, ready to retreat, only to find our path blocked by another vehicle, and more armed men.

"Run," Konstantin growls, shoving me toward a narrow gap between buildings. I hear the fear in his voice, fear forme, and my blood runs cold. I turn, just in time to see him pulling out a gun, clearly intending to cover me while I run.

“Konstantin—” I shout his name, in the same instant that I feel a sharp sting in my neck, like a bee in the summer.

My hand flies up, and I feel a small dart protruding from my skin.Tranquilizer.

"Konstantin," I manage to say, my voice already slurring. "Run."

The world tilts sideways. I see Konstantin turning back for me, horror on his face as I stumble. He reaches for me, but he's too late. My legs give out, and I'm falling, falling into darkness. I hear the sound of footsteps behind me, other men coming to take me away, to surround us so that Konstantin can’t get free?—

The last thing I see before unconsciousness claims me is Konstantin fighting desperately to reach me, Kane's men closing in around him like wolves. And the last thought that flits through my mind, as I try to reach for him and can’t raise my hand, as Ifeel hands on my body, lifting me up, is that I should have told him how I feel.

That even in the midst of all the lies and chaos and betrayal, I should have, at some point, told him that even though I was sent to kill him…

I fell in love with him instead.

25

VALENTINA

Iwake to the gentle rocking of a boat and the taste of copper in my mouth.

My head pounds with each swell of the waves, a dull throbbing that intensifies when I try to move. My arms are secured behind me—zip ties, not handcuffs, cutting into my wrists. Clearly Kane didn’t give them instructions to be gentle. My ankles are bound too, and a cloth gag is tied tight enough to chafe the corners of my mouth.

I keep my eyes closed, feigning continued unconsciousness while I take stock of my situation. The gentle hum beneath the rocking suggests that we’re not on a speedboat, but something larger. One of Kane’s, probably. My stomach tightens at the realization that if we’re on one of Kane’s larger vessels, then we’re going somewhere farther away. I have a feeling I know where that might be.

The air smells of salt and expensive leather. I'm lying on what feels like a bench seat in the cabin, the cool leather sticking to my cheek. Voices drift from somewhere above—the deck, probably. Two men, maybe three, speaking in low tones. I strain to hear them over the engine noise.

"...sure he'll come for her?" One voice, vaguely familiar. One of Kane's men, though I can't place which one. I don’t even recall their names. I always brushed them off, ignoring them, viewing them as lesser goons. I should have paid more attention. I never thought that they’d be on a different side than me.

"Kane says he will." Another voice, gruffer. "Says the Abramov heir has gone soft for her."

A laugh, cruel and dismissive. "Hard to believe. She's just Kane's pet killer. Nothing special."

My jaw tightens.I’ll show you something fucking special.Hypocritical, maybe, since I’ve never thought much of them, but it irks me to be so casually dismissed, when I’ve spent my life devoted to becoming what I am.

"You didn't see them together. I did. He looked at her like she hung the fucking moon."

That feels like a dagger lancing through my chest. I squeeze my eyes tightly shut, fighting back the wave of emotion that threatens to crash over me. Somewhere in the midst of all of it is relief.

They’re using me as bait for Konstantin. That means he’s still alive. Whatever else happened when I was taken, he managed to fight his way out of it—and he’s still alive. Still free of them.

Part of me hopes he's smart enough to stay away. A larger, more selfish part hopes he's already planning to come for me.

That I mean as much to him as he’s come to mean to me.

I finally risk opening my eyes to slits, keeping my breathing even and deep. The cabin is luxurious but utilitarian—all sleek lines and dark wood. I’ve probably been on this boat before, although if I’m being honest, they all look the same to me. Through a small window, I can see only endless blue ocean stretching to the horizon. No landmarks, no sense of direction. We could be heading anywhere.

Except I’m pretty sure I know exactly where we're going—Kane's private island compound, his ultimate fortress. I've been there before, many times. It's where he took me when I turned thirteen, to start my training in earnest. We went there multiple times over the years, when he tested me. It’s where he brought me to finish off my first kill—a man kneeling in the sand, a blindfold over his eyes, begging for mercy.

It's where I became Valentina Kane, assassin.

The irony doesn't escape me. The place of my rebirth may well be the place where I die.