Alexander Carver

Isa had expected at least some shock on his face, something that showed she had caught him off guard. But the man standing in front of her, tall and composed, only had a smug look of amusement tugging at the corner of his lips. Her jaw dropped in disbelief.

It was him.

The man she’d been ordered to kill.

Standing barely a few inches away, towering at six foot something like a sculpted warning from fate.

Isa thought she was tall, but standing near this man made her feel strangely small. His masculine cologne drifted over her again, that heavy blend of expensive leather and spice that told her he wasn’t just some privileged son of a senator. This man had presence. Power walked with him. Authority clung to his shoulders.

Something in him screamed danger, the kind that didn’t need to be announced. It was etched into his posture, carved into his expression. He looked like someone who’d been built to break people. Someone who played with feelings like a game and didn’t flinch when things shattered.

And what shocked Isa more was how unfazed he was with a gun pointed at his forehead. No fear. Not even mild discomfort.

He was handsome though, painfully so. His features were sharp and daring, the type that could command attention in any room. Those green eyes held a strange familiarity, like she’d seen them recently but couldn’t place where. And his lips, the way they curved into that slow, taunting smirk, sent an unexpected twist low in her stomach.

Isa hated that. She hated feeling anything in front of her target.

No. He didn’t feel like her target right now.

He felt like the one hunting her.

“Bold. I like it,” he said, his voice smooth, almost mocking.

Isa stepped back slightly, hating the faint tremble in her hands. She refused to be the first one to drop her gun. Never. Not for anyone.

“Don’t play with me,” she warned, pushing the barrel closer to his forehead, steadying her grip.

He didn’t blink. Instead he studied her hands, her stance, the way her finger curled around the trigger. He nodded slowly, like he recognized something in her.

She wasn’t just some random woman holding a gun.

She’d held one before. She knew how to aim.

She knew how to kill.

He chuckled, a low sound, but his expression stayed unreadable. That small scar under his eye, another across the bridge of his nose, the dangerous gleam in his eyes... this man was hot in the worst possible way.

Her karma. Her test. Her biggest mistake staring right at her.

Alex didn’t shake. Didn’t back away. He enjoyed the way she reacted to him. The effect. The heat. The tension. He was used to this. He’d always been able to twist people without lifting a finger. And seeing someone like her, armed, stubborn and beautiful, only made it more entertaining.

“How’s your face? Your lip’s still bleeding?” he asked casually while sliding his own gun back into his pocket.

Isa froze.

Her tongue instinctively brushed over the cut on her lip and she winced.

How did he know she was wounded?

She’d checked the mirror earlier. The cut wasn’t even visible.

Unless…

Her eyes narrowed.

“Who the hell are you? And how did you know I got a cut on my lip, you creep?”

Alex didn’t react. He just gave her a bored glance, completely unbothered by her question. Then he started walking past her, voice sharp with dismissal.

“Get out of my house if you wanna be rude.”

“What?” Isa stepped forward, disbelief thick in her voice. Last she checked, this was her stepfather’s house. Her mother’s house. And by extension, hers. He didn’t get to tell her to leave.

Before she could snap back, Elena rushed into the hallway and froze when she saw them facing each other. Alex gave Elena one blank stare and walked past her as if she didn’t exist.

“I guess you two already introduced yourselves,” Elena giggled nervously, trying to ease the tension.

Isa shook her head slightly, her fingers tightening around the gun in her pocket.

Elena’s eyes widened. She hurried toward Isa.

“Where did you get that from? Hide it now or Robert won’t be happy.”

Isa rolled her eyes and slipped the gun back into her pocket. She walked past Elena but paused.

“When are you and Robert going for your honeymoon?”

Elena blinked, uncomfortable. She hated when Isa spoke like that, like none of Elena’s choices ever made her happy. But what could she say? She had the right to choose her own happiness.

“Tonight,” Elena replied. “Oh, and that big guy you saw earlier, he’s your stepbrother.”

Isa didn’t even let her finish.

“I know.”

Then she walked away.

Elena laughed softly and followed her for a moment before turning back to the living room. That was when she froze. Robert was whispering to Alex in a low voice.

“They died. Just one is in critical condition,” Alex said, settling back on the chair. His top buttons were undone, revealing part of his defined chest.

Isa felt a strange mix of fear, anger and something else she didn’t want to name. This man was too dangerous. Too unpredictable. And too intoxicating for her liking.

She’d had every chance to kill him earlier, but she hadn’t.

Why?

Why did he make her hesitate?

Why did he make her think twice about a job she normally executed without blinking?

If Viktor discovered who her new family was, she wouldn’t survive. Ivan wouldn’t survive. Her mother wouldn’t survive.

Alex Carver.

Alexander Carver.

She’d heard rumors. Dark ones. Deadly ones. Robert had tried to dismiss them, claiming people wanted to ruin him. But Isa had always wondered.

And if the rumors were true…

If Alex really was involved in something far darker…

Then maybe that was why Viktor wanted him dead.

She stood quietly at the doorway, listening.

“Weren’t they your friends? Or did you have to be the reason for their death?” Robert asked, his voice shaking slightly.

Alex chuckled. Bitter. Cold. He slammed his hand on the table, making Robert flinch. Even Elena jumped.

“Ain’t got friends, father. They were just fools looking for money. And they got what was waiting for them.”

Isa felt her breath hitch.

He wasn’t denying it.

He wasn’t pretending to be innocent.

He wasn’t even trying to hide his darkness.

Robert sighed heavily and walked away. “I’ve covered a lot for you. Don’t ruin my reputation, Alexander. I’m warning you.”

“I helped you build your reputation, father,” Alex snapped back, but then his eyes locked with Isa’s watching from the doorway.

Robert quickly forced a smile.

“Oh come in.”

Elena nodded and tugged Isa forward, even though Isa didn’t want to step inside that room. Alex’s stare was like a blade slicing through air.

“I don’t think this is the right time,” Elena whispered, but Robert waved it off.

“It doesn’t matter. Don’t let Alex scare you two. He’s always like that.”

Alex raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.

Robert continued, “Alex, you didn’t come to my wedding. Anyway, this is Elena, my wife. Your stepmother. And Isabella, her daughter. Your stepsister.”

“Great,” Alex muttered, that slow smile creeping back, wicked and unreadable.

He stood up and walked out, ignoring all of them.

…

Hours later, Isa sat in her room, replaying everything in her head. Her hands trembled slightly as she scrolled through old messages from Viktor.

Her countdown had begun.

Twenty nine days left to kill the man who slept under the same roof as her.

She picked up her rifle, polishing the metal, wiping dust off the trigger. She imagined pulling it earlier, imagined completing her job. But she hadn’t.

This was going to be a nightmare.

Her phone buzzed.

“Viktor demands for you princessa. Don’t be late.”

Isa’s heart dropped.

Whatever Viktor wanted…

It wasn’t good. And she prayed it wasn’t about her new family.

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