Page 72 of Sing For Us

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I’m holding a meeting with my guards and the room reeks of incompetence.

I’m holding the edge of the table to keep myself from exploding. Murmurs from the men are filling the space, and I am growing tired by the minute. Every strategy that has been thrown out has been discussed among them, like I’m not even here.

My eyes are focused on one point, but I don’t see anything. Everything blurs in my mind, and the only thing I can feel is rage.

It’s because of them, incompetent men, that my best friend is in the hospital on a ventilator. They didn’t fucking listen before and advised me to hold off on the attack against Dario.

“We can’t go to Dario’s home.”

“He will expect something.”

“We need to attack now!” Senad is the only one making sense. The other men are pissing me the fuck off.

“Maybe we go there under a ruse?”

“What if…”

My ears are ringing, and my palms are sweaty, but not warm. They are ice-cold, and I’m having trouble swallowing.

“What if we staked out?”

“What if we circled the perimeter and threw a bomb?”

What if, what if, what if…

I slam my hands against the table. “Enough!” I yell. A cold settles over me, and a second later I feel warm again.

“All of you tried to advise me on what to do, and you failed.” I try to keep my voice even, but the fury can’t be masked.

“Lana, we didn’t want–” Marian tries to talk, but I cut him off by throwing a knife at him. It goes right above his head. Everybody stops what they are doing, and fear takes over.

“Men have forsaken the ability to listen to women and look at the state of the world. Patriarchy has done nothing but cause destruction.”

And I mean every word that’s coming out of my mouth. When I was starting to gain some traction in this industry, nobody knew I carried out the hits everyone was talking about. Baba thought that it would be best for me to stay under the radar until I graduated from college. While I love him, it bothered me that the hits I carried out were disguised as his.

There are female assassins, and they are fabulous, yet men still undermine us. There are only a handful of men I know of who don’t have a problem with the opposite gender. Noa, Adam, Josh, and Oliver fall into that category.

The only man at my table right now who isn’t giving me shit is Senad.

All the others want me to take it back, look at the situation, and go in quietly.

Quiet isn’t enough. I need to roar.

“Lana, none of us meant to–” a guard puts his two cents in, and I am done.

Fuck any man who interrupts me.

“If a woman is talking, don’t you dare to cut her off.” I can barely push out my words. My limit has been reached, and the lowlife guard instantly shuts up. So do the others.

“Emin is in the hospital, and men are responsible for this. All of you are at fault because you advised me not to attack. Noa may have caused hurt, but Dario pulled the trigger.”

“What do you mean by that?” Marian asks me with a confused look. He crosses his arms and looks at his own hairy fingers. Why is he nervous talking about Dario?

“He threw a fucking bomb into the room where Hana and I were. Noa didn’t. The smoke filled our lungs.” My words are carefully chosen as my hand silently goes to the gun that’s on the table. He is hiding something, and I think I know what. His brief, involuntary facial twitches leak that something’s brewing. And he gulped with his last word.

I am being fucked over.