Top Assassins Call Me The Lady Boss novel Chapter 93

Chapter 93: Not Civilized

Chapter Ninety-Three

She threw the sheets off her legs and swung them over the edge of the bed, ignoring the dull throb in her skull. Like she was the one who should be ashamed?

Absolutely not.

She wouldn’t let him kill her pride. Not after what he did. Not after he humiliated her in front of his men. If he thought she was going to slink away in the shadows, he didn’t know her at all.

Pushing herself to her feet, she steadied against the nightstand, inhaling sharply. Her body protested, but her mind was clear— she was walking out of there on her own terms.

The door was slightly ajar as if daring her to follow him. She took a step forward, her bare feet silent against the floor. She would find him. She would face him. And she would make him regret thinking he had the upper hand.

But before she could take another step, the door swung open.

He stood there, arms crossed, that ever-present smirk curving his lips. "Going somewhere?"

She met his gaze, unflinching. "I will walk out of here as I came in— on my own terms."

His smirk deepened. "That’s cute. But it’s not up for discussion."

She took another step closer, tilting her head. "You can try to stop me. But you better make sure you succeed, or you’ll regret it."

He chuckled, low and dark. "You really don’t know when to quit, do you?"

"I don’t quit," she shot back. "Especially not when it comes to putting men like you in their place."

His eyes flickered with something unreadable— amusement, maybe even admiration. But beneath that, there was something else. Something dangerous.

"Then let’s see how far you get," he murmured, stepping aside just enough to let her pass.

It wasn’t a permission. It was a challenge.

And she never backed down from a challenge.

She hadn’t noticed at first, too caught up in her anger, but now her eyes flicked down to the tray in his hands. Steam curled from the plate— something warm. It looked rich. The scent of seasoned meat and fresh bread filled the space between them.

Her gaze snapped back to his hand, then to his face. What was his problem with always feeding her?

"Eat," he ordered, his voice leaving no room for argument.

She didn’t move. Didn’t reach for the tray. The silence stretched, thick with her defiance.

His lips pressed into something close to amusement as he set the tray on the nightstand beside her. "If you’re going to fight me, you better eat," he said smoothly. "You’ll need all the energy you can get."

Something about the way he said it made her stomach tighten. It was an odd mix of agitation and reluctant gratitude. She hated that he was right. Hated that he knew he was right. She was hungry.

Her fingers curled into fists at her sides. "I don’t need your food."

He exhaled a slow, knowing chuckle. "Suit yourself. But if you pass out from hunger while trying to kill me, that’s going to be embarrassing for you."

Her jaw clenched. He was impossible. Arrogant. Controlling. And yet... she couldn’t shake the fact that he was hers... Well, partially hers. Not her servant or slave, but her sex partner. That was if she wanted to put a name or tag on whatever was going on between them.

He left again, and this time, she let out a slow breath before reaching for the plate.

She told herself it wasn’t about him. She wasn’t eating because he told her to. She was eating because she needed her strength. That was all.

She tore a piece of bread, chewing quickly, ignoring the way warmth settled in her stomach. It wasn’t comfort— it was a necessity. A few bites of meat, and a sip of water, just enough to steady herself. Then she pushed the tray away, wiping her fingers on the napkin before turning her attention to the nightstand.

Her instincts told her where to look.

Pulling the drawer open, she wasn’t surprised to find a notepad and pen waiting for her. It was her first time in this bedroom, but she had been in his personal apartment before. She knew his habits— how he always kept something to write with nearby. He was a creature of routine, and tonight, that worked in her favor.

She scribbled quickly:

"Thank you."

Then, with a smirk, she added, "We’re even now. I guess I forgive you since you fed me."

At the bottom, she sketched two exaggerated rolling eyes before dropping the pen.

A quiet knock sounded on his door. _{freeweb\n(o)v.e\l.com}

Verify captcha to read the contentVerify