Chapter 3
"Who the hell are you?" Victoria's question was like a bullet, piercing right through the thin mask we'd been hiding behind.
I closed the door, slipped on my slippers, and moved at my usual unhurried pace.
"Your husband, Michael Carter," I replied.
"My husband?" Victoria laughed, like I'd told the biggest joke in the world, but there wasn't a hint of humor in her eyes.
"My husband is supposed to be some timid bookworm, so soft he wouldn't even pick up a fallen bottle. He's the guy who stays home all day, messing around with recipes and gardening for me!"
She closed the distance, her presence practically suffocating, every step full of dominance.
"He's not some lunatic who'd go ballistic and kick someone half to death because of a single line! And he sure as hell doesn't have that... that murderous stare in his eyes!"
I looked at her in silence, meeting her gaze without saying a word.
I could see that tonight had completely shattered the image she'd built of me.
"I took a few years of free combat," I said, tossing out the lamest excuse I could come up with.
"Free combat?" Victoria scoffed, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "What kind of coach teaches you to grind someone's face into the floor? Michael, do you really think I'm that stupid?"
Seemed I couldn't hide it anymore.
I sighed, headed to the kitchen, grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, and handed it to Victoria.
"Calm down," I said.
She didn't take it, but only kept her eyes locked on me.
"Three years ago, the first time we met was at a café," Victoria said out of nowhere.
I nodded.
"You told me you were a freelance writer, that both your parents had passed away, and you lived alone. You said you were tired of wandering and wanted a safe harbor," Victoria said.
"I remember," I replied.
"So," Victoria said, her eyes rimmed with red, "you've been lying to me from the very start, haven't you?"
It felt like my heart was caught in a vice, squeezing tighter with every second.
I opened my mouth, but I couldn't get a single word out.
Yeah, I lied to her.
From my name to everything about me, not a single thing was true.
Michael Carter was one of my countless aliases.
Just then, my phone buzzed.
It was a text from an encrypted, unknown number.
The message was short: [Ghost is loose. Target: You.]
My pupils shrank.
They found me after all.
Ghost was a legendary assassin I locked away in the world's most secure prison myself.
He was out. And now, he was coming for revenge.
When Victoria caught the sudden shift in my expression, her stare went icy. "What, did your accomplice message you?"
I quickly deleted the message, slipped my phone back into my pocket, and looked up to meet her gaze.
"Victoria, this whole thing is a mess. But you have to believe me. I would never hurt you," I said.
"Believe you?" Victoria gave a sarcastic laugh. "I don't even know who you are anymore. How am I supposed to believe anything you say?"
The disappointment and finality in her eyes stabbed right through me.
"Just give me a little time, I'll..." I started.
"I don't want to hear it!" Victoria cut me off. "You've got two options. Either spill everything right now, or we're filing for divorce first thing tomorrow."
The air in the room turned to ice.
Meanwhile, Jason, nursing three busted ribs, was sprawled out in a VIP hospital room, dialing a number.
"Mr. Blake... I got beaten up... Yeah, at the company's annual party... It was Victoria's husband... You gotta back me up," Jason whined, his voice shaky.
On the other end, a slow, icy voice came through. "Who the hell dares mess with my people? Victoria... Looks like she still hasn't learned her lesson."