She motioned for me to follow her. I hesitated, but curiosity overpowered my fear. The air was thick with dust and the scent of damp earth. The deeper we went, the colder it got. Finally, Lesley stopped in front of a metal door. She pushed it open, revealing a small, windowless room lit by a single, flickering bulb.
“This is where I planned my escape,” she said quietly, running her fingers along the old wooden table in the center.
I frowned. “Escape from what?”
She let out a bitter laugh. “From the life James forced me into.”
I stayed silent, waiting for her to continue.
Lesley leaned against the table, arms crossed. “I used to be a hitwoman, Zoey. I was damn good at it. Until James found out who I really was. He dug into my past, uncovered my weaknesses, and the moment he found my mother…” Her voice cracked for a second before she composed herself. “He had her killed.”
I sucked in a breath.
She exhaled slowly. “That’s when I knew—I couldn’t keep doing this. I left that world behind, changed my name, and disappeared. Damon saved me, but I never stopped wanting revenge.”
Her eyes locked onto mine. “Now, we have the same enemy. So, tell me—are you ready to fight back?”
I didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”
And that’s how it began.
Lesley trained me like a soldier.
At first, I struggled. My hands shook when I held a gun. My punches barely landed right. But she was ruthless. She didn’t go easy on me just because I was a woman who had suffered. If anything, she was harder on me.
“You can cry later,” she snapped one day when I failed to disarm her. “Right now, you fight.”
So I fought.
I pushed myself past the pain, past the exhaustion. I learned how to fire a gun without flinching, how to strike with precision, how to endure pain without breaking. Lesley taught me how to disappear, how to manipulate identities. She turned me into a ghost.
During those months, I let go of who I was. The weak, broken Zoey died.
And the woman left in her place?
She was ready to kill.
One evening, as Lesley and I sat in her office, finalizing the details of my new identity, something unexpected happened.
A notification popped up on Lesley’s laptop.
She frowned, clicking on it. A video file loaded. The screen flickered to life, and my breath caught in my throat.
It was Kate.
She was sitting in an expensive hotel suite, phone pressed to her ear.
Her voice was clear, cold, and unmistakable.