Page 103 of Assassin: Part 1

Zakhar and Oleg move instantly, guns up and pointed at her. Lane ignores them, stretching her arms over her head. “You know, I might have to do that more often. That was the best sleep I’ve had in a while. Thanks for that, pet.” She blows me a kiss, but the look in her eyes…

Revenge. That’s all I see when I look at her. A dark promise that I’m going to pay for that.

If she’s already down here and out of her bonds, she’s been awake far longer than I thought. Fuck.

“Guns down,” I bark.

“How the fuck did she get here?” Zakhar demands, unmoving.

“Why, your brother brought me. Didn’t he tell you? He was insistent that I come back with him. Move in. Join the family. The whole bit.” She gives Zakhar a beaming smile. “Don’t worry, I’m sure we’ll be besties before long.”

Zakhar’s lips thin while Oleg drops his gun and sits back in his seat. Zakhar looks back at me. “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me she was here?”

“Because I knew you’d try and talk me out of it and I’ve made up my mind.” My gaze doesn’t leave Lane, who moves easily to Mila, giving her a quick hug. The easy affection surprises me, but Mila brightens, relaxing. I pin Zakhar with a hard stare. “She’s my choice, brother. I’ve made that clear. Get behind me or step the fuck out of the way.”

His eyes harden, but he slowly lowers the gun. He’s not happy, even resents me for putting him in this position, but my mind won’t be changed.

Sitting in his seat, he glares at Lane. His stare never leaves her, even as someone rushes out with an extra plate of food for her. The table lapses into silence until Mila asks Lane, “So where am I going to school since you know of it?”

“Pellerton.” She says it so casually, like she hasn’t named one of the top schools in the damn country. The very same school I originally wanted Mila in but, even with my connections, couldn’t get her in.

Mila gapes at her. “Pellerton? Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Language, Mila,” Zakhar scolds, though it’s half-hearted at best. “And what the fuck do you mean you got her in there? They don’t let anyone in.”

Lane shrugs. “Pulled a few strings. They’re expecting her at the school next month to get registered and into a dorm. One that I’ve personally chosen to ensure the best security.” She glances at Zakhar. “I’ve already seen to it that she has the best security there as well. Not that she’ll really need it with their reputation, but better to be safe than sorry.”

“And what makes you think you have any right to arrange that?” Zakhar demands.

Lane shrugs. “Probably the fact that you won’t ever trust that school, and Whiteton was never your first choice. If I had to wager a guess, I’d say you were on the fence about it in the first place. The only reason you’re going with it is that it’s on par with the school she’s currently in, and you’re close enough to monitor her and ensure nothing happens again. Now she’s going to a better school, by all rights, and she’ll be in Mishka’s area. He’ll ensure she’s protected as well. I’m not seeing a downside.”

“The downside is that you think you can come in here and take the hell over and make decisions about my daughter.” Zakhar is seething, so I shoot him a warning look. He ignores it, his gaze on Lane. “I don’t give a fuck who and what you are. You don’t get a say over the choices that affect my daughter. Ever. And if you’re going to be swayed, then neither will you.” His gaze lands on me, unbending.

“I am Pakhan, Zakhar, and you and Mila fall under that. You will not tell me I have no say over my niece.”

“You’re letting yourself be influenced by a crazy bitch who⁠—”

I lash my hand out, grabbing him by the throat, my grip crushing. Mila gasps, and Oleg is instantly on alert. Lane, however, keeps on eating, unaffected. “Insult her again, and next time it will be your tongue, brother.”

“Ilya, enough,” Lane says. Her eyes are sharp and direct. “Let him go.”

I should tell her she can’t fucking order me around either, but I slowly release him. Zakhar doesn’t even wince or rub at the red marks on his neck. His eyes scream resentment. A look I’ve never seen directed at me before, and the guilt that I’ve caused a rift between us sits heavily in my gut. Family or not, I won’t allow Lane to be disrespected. Not even by him.

“Everyone else out,” Lane orders. “The only ones in this room are us, Mila, Zakhar, and Oleg.”

I narrow my eyes at her but do as she requests. Whatever she wants to say is probably not something she wants the staff to hear. The staff leave, but I see a few disappointed faces. When the door closes, no one moves or says anything.

Lane gets to her feet and moves to the double doors into the dining room. She opens it, and nearly half the staff almost fall inside from where they were pressed against it. Anger surges. I know my staff can be gossips, but to blatantly ignore my order and try to listen in? I slowly get to my feet. What else have they been listening in on?

“Leave,” she orders, voice icy.

They freeze, but when they look at me and see my face, they scurry away as fast as they can.

I look at Oleg. “Deal with it as soon as this is finished.” He nods, a scowl forming on his face.

We can’t risk any information leaking. Especially not about Lane and who she is. I’m not an idiot. No one can know who she is.

I don’t want to give her another reason to try and leave me again.