Page 95 of Pretty Little Assassin

“Where did you find this?”

“Upstairs. End of the hall. The room that was always locked.” Valentina turns the photograph over. “C., four. Who is C.?”

Madam does not answer immediately.

“Johnson had three girls under this roof,” she finally says. “Two are standing here.”

“Three?”

“Not tonight.”

“Madam.”

“She is alive. She is safe. That is all I can tell you,” Madam says.

Valentina looks ready to argue, but then her attention drops to my side. She closes the distance between us and presses her palm against the blood soaking through my shirt.

“I’d hit you right now for hiding the rest of that contract, but you’re already bleeding.”

“The mirror contract? I showed it to you. Don’t you remember? I showed you mine if you showed me yours.”

“You showed me the original contract. You didn’t show me the second message, the one Primacy sent after you teamed up with me. They offered to restore your standing if you delivered me. You hid that from me.

“Yes.”

“Don’t yes me. I’m not finished.”

I wait.

“The first night at Donnie’s, I received another order,” Valentina says. “I believed it came from Madam.”

She recites it from memory.

“Complete the contract on Viktor Petrov. He’s a liability. You cannot trust him.”

“I didn’t reply. I didn’t tell Zero or Donnie. I pocketed the phone.”

“Johnson sending it through the relay in Madam’s name.”

“I know that now. I didn’t know it then.” Her hand remains pressed against my side. “So yes, I’m angry with you, but I wasn’t entirely honest either.”

“You’re right. I did keep that part from you, but not because I was trying to betray your trust.” Her hand staunches my blood, supporting me as I spill my guts. “When I accepted the contract, I intended to kill you. You intended to kill me too. I was accustomed to working alone. Partnering with you and your dream team of ridiculously skilled misfits wasn’t something I signed up for, but it happened anyway.”

The wound pulls when I shift. I keep the reaction off my face.

“Initially, I took that contract the way I have taken every contract for eleven years. I broke into your warehouse to wait for you and kill you in your own home because it was efficient, and I am not sentimental.”

“Romantic.”

“Then I picked up your lace panties from the arm of a chair and caught your scent. My instincts recognized you before I understood what was happening.”

Her face changes. The pressure on my wound increases slightly. “You knew I was your mate?”

“I knew you were mine. I refused to give it a name until the gala.”

“I had no idea what to do with it,” I continue. “I had never failed to complete a contract, Valentina. Never. I earned my reputation through blood and sweat and violent patience, and I sat in your living room with your underwear in my pocket and your cat making my eyes swell shut, waiting for you to come home so I could find out what the rest of my life was going to look like.”

“You threatened to throw Mr. Pickles out a window.”