A cold-hearted assassin must choose between loyalty to her organization or love after falling for her charming target.
Ava became a KSD assassin at only sixteen years old. Fueled by anger, hate, and the hunger for revenge, Ava has forgotten what com...
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Trigger Warnings: Gore and mentions ofabuse
Tweve years ago
"Ah, you're home," my father called out from the kitchen. The delicious waft of Pelmeni floated through the house. "Just in time for dinner!"
Taking a deep breath, I closed the front door behind me and took off my shoes. Stroking the hilt of the knife in my pocket, I approached the direction of the palpable aroma of food with caution. My empty stomach growled quietly, but I needed to remind myself that I wasn't here to eat.
I was here to kill my father.
Entering the spotless, my eyes landed on my father standing over the stove. He was wearing a white button-down shirt and casual black pants, complete with fluffy pink slippers which he insisted men could wear as well. My father looked so silly and comfortable, I almost felt a twinge of hesitation flow over me. Turning towards me with a smile, he beckoned me to come over.
"Как твой день был? (How was your day?" he asked when I approached.
"Good." Which was a half lie, half truth.
He must have sensed it, because he squinted at me. "Something bothering you?"
I didn't answer him, but instead, observed his face. He's wearing a concerned look, yet his eyes showed no signs of worry. Suspicion and anger hid behind the wall of fake emotions. He acted like this good, caring father figure, but deep inside, he was the complete opposite: scum.
And he knew it.
Eight Years Ago
I had tucked the bedcovers closer to my chin as I listened to my father yelling at my mother. His angry voice had echoed through the entire house, reaching my bedroom on the second floor.
"You're fucking worthless!" he had yelled. "I told you that you can't step foot outside of this house after dark! Don't you understand that it's for your fucking safety?"
The unmistakable clattering of utensils and shattering glass followed.
"I need time to myself!" my mother had shouted back. "Ever since Ava was born, all I do in this godforsaken house is clean and do everything around the house!"
"It's your fucking job!" my father's furious voice had bellowed.
"You never help! You come home and instead of spending time with our daughter, you lounge in the living room like a lazy pig! You're just like the rest!"
