Page 4 of The Hitman's Forbidden Obsession

My phone buzzes against the dash, pulling me out of my thoughts.

Rafe.

I don’t take my eyes off Avery as I answer. “Talk.”

He chuckles. “Good to hear you too, Dante. You’re lucky I’m better with code than you are with manners.”

“Name,” I say, cutting through the banter. “And the address.”

He pauses, sobering up. “I managed to track the payment. It came through a buried chain of crypto wallets from someone called Victoria Sinclair.” I hear keys tapping in the background as he reels off the address. The same address in Avery Sinclair’s file.

My pulse goes still. My body doesn’t move. Not a twitch.

But inside? A switch flips.

“You okay, Dante?” Rafe asks. “Need help with anything else?”

“No. I’m good.”

I end the call and drop the phone onto the passenger seat. My hand curls into a fist against my thigh, and I know I am not good. Not at all.

Victoria Sinclair. Same last name. Same fucking house.

I say her name again in my mind like it’s venom on my tongue.

Who the hell hires a hitman to take out one of their own relatives? A jealous sister? A cousin she doesn’t get along with?

No.

I think of the woman from the bar. Mid-twenties. Polished. Poison in heels. Not enough warmth behind her smile to pass for a blood relative.

Too young to be Avery’s mother. Too bitter to be a sibling.

Stepmother. That fits.

The kind of woman who marries for power. Sees a young beautiful girl as a threat. Wants the house, the money, the control... without competition.

And Avery? Avery is pure light. She wouldn’t see it until the knife was already in her back.

My angel’s been living with a snake, and I bet she didn’t have a clue.

My jaw tightens as I watch her through the window. She’s crouched again, tying a little girl’s shoe, smile bright and guileless. Innocent. Defenseless.

And I was supposed to kill her?

I grip the steering wheel until the leather groans. My knuckles go bloodless. Leaning back in my seat, I drag in a breath so deep it scrapes across the cage of my ribs,

Avery isn’t safe. Not in that house. Not for another goddamn second.

Which means this is it. I’m done watching. It’s time to make my move.

I straighten in my seat and roll up my sleeves, like I'm heading into the fight of my life. And maybe I am, because I'll dowhatever it takes to make sure nobody ever lays a finger on my angel.

“She doesn’t know me yet,” I murmur to myself. “But she will. By the end of tonight, she’ll never want to leave my side.”

I kill the engine and step out of the car, the heat from the sun washing over me. My stride is measured as I cross the street, every step deliberate. Focused.

When I reach the front doors of the library, I pause for a second, my hand on the handle and my breath low in my lungs. Fate stands on the other side of the glass.

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