Top Assassins Call Me The Lady Boss novel Chapter 122

Chapter 122: Dreadful move

Chapter Hundred and Twenty-Two

Though he was waiting for the location to be sent, he couldn’t stay still in his room. He wanted to see her. He wanted to make sure she was okay and resting.

He sighed, what was happening to him? Was scaring him not enough? She was okay now and all stitched up, why was he still worried?

A location ping. One of the men had followed a suspect who had fled the scene and was reporting it to him.

Good. _{free\we\bnov(e)(l).com}

He typed a message back: "Bring him to me. Alive."

He tossed the phone in the car seat and stared ahead, his expression cold, and dangerous.

The black interior of the car felt too bright, though it wasn’t. He closed his eyes for a bit and was met with the girl on the bed with bandages around her shoulder.

"Idiot," he muttered to himself, eyes narrowing. "She was your responsibility." it was going to gnaw at him until God knew when.

A flash of her face also came to mind, when she was grinning while bowling, pouting when he refused to play, laughing when she tried to flirt, even though he never smiled back.

At that point he felt at ease, then suddenly it came again; the image shifted her eyes wide with pain, blood spreading across her dress.

His fists tightened again.

A knock came at the car window. He turned his head slightly, not speaking.

He later rolled the window down, just a bit, and one of the Villa staff peeked through. "Sir, Matilda was asking if you. Should I tell her you are here?"

He stared blankly at the man.

The staff member paled a bit. "Just in case she stays up late waiting for you."

Markus waved him off with a curt gesture. The man vanished as quickly as he had come.

He looked towards the door as if contemplating if he should go back in.

Asli was still in there. She was going to start all over again. His cheek still stung faintly from her punch. Fair.

Before, he never minded her when she called her names or said things about him being incompetent because he wasn’t incompetent, he was just pretending to be.

However, having her call him incompetent when he had failed something for the first time, he felt it.

’Incompetent.’ It echoed in his head. A wince followed. The pain was there, buried deep.

He could feel it just remembering the pain that danced in her eyes while she bled. The wound might heal, faster or slower, but the moment would stay. It always did and for her, she would never leave her memory. It was her birthday.

He leaned forward, resting his palms on his steering wheel. His fingers steepled in front of his lips after.

This was so unlike him. Why was he in a total mess?

The fire hadn’t died down. If anything, it was spreading. Crawling from his chest into his limbs. Rage, more rage... they were steady yet silent.

He tried to make sense of his feelings. He tried to recall the scene.

’Someone had aimed at me and missed. Instead, they hit Matilda. They were not after me in the first place. So why would they even hurt Matilda? Why am I angry? Why am I blaming myself? I never cared.’ he continued to think.

Even if Ahmet got shot, he just teased him and they called it a day. Ahmet always did the same with him. Was it because Matilda knew nothing about the life he was used to?

He had enemies. Fine. He welcomed them. But they didn’t get to touch what was his.

Since when did Matilda become his?

He exhaled sharply and picked up his phone again. Then sent another message.

"Shapen the longest knife. I’m gouging their eyes out." He let the message sit pretty on his phone.

He didn’t care about questions or answers anymore. Didn’t care if this had been a warning, a mistake, a test, or a declaration.

Already, the moment someone pointed a gun in his direction, there were no negotiations. Let alone involving another person.

A soft tap on the passenger window shattered his thoughts.

He turned sharply.

Matilda stood there, wrapped in the oversized hoodie, her hair still slightly damp from the quick shower she must have taken.

His oversized hoodie. His.

Her brows were pinched in that familiar way, stubborn, but unsure.

Markus reached across and unlocked the door. She slid in slowly, one hand pressed lightly to her shoulder.

"What are you doing here?" His voice came out a little rougher than he meant.

She didn’t answer right away. She adjusted herself in the seat with a faint wince, then leaned back, watching him.

"You’ve been sitting out here for almost hours if not ages," she said softly. "I thought you left."

"I did, but I came back. I was just... thinking."

Matilda studied him in the small space. "You looked mad."

He didn’t reply.

"You still look mad," she asked again and he wondered what she was talking about. Why would he be mad? Why should he?

He let out a short breath. "I’m not mad."

She raised a brow. Still not believing him

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