SKYLAR'S POV
The sound of a gunshot echoed through the training hall.
I didn't flinch.
I watched the bullet strike the target directly between its painted eyes, then lowered my weapon as the instructors exchanged unreadable glances.
"Again," Master Viktor ordered.
I tilted my head. "You want me to shoot the same target again?"
"I want you to understand that confidence kills more promising assassins than bullets do."
"Then perhaps you should stop giving confidence to people who haven't earned it."
A few trainees snickered.
Viktor's expression hardened.
I smiled sweetly.
Bad decision.
"Since you find this amusing, Miss Pantoshi, perhaps you would like to demonstrate your skills without a weapon."
I glanced at the three men standing behind him.
Three against one.
Unarmed.
I almost laughed.
"Are they allowed to cry when I break something?"
"Begin!"
The first man charged.
I stepped aside, caught his wrist, and used his momentum to send him crashing onto the mat. The second tried to grab me from behind. I drove my elbow into his stomach, twisted free, and swept his legs from beneath him.
The third was smarter.
He waited.
I waited too.
Then he attacked.
Five seconds later, he was on his back, staring at the ceiling as though it had personally betrayed him.
I straightened my black training shirt and brushed an imaginary speck of dust from my shoulder.
"Anyone else?"
Silence.
Master Viktor approached me, his expression giving nothing away.
"Your final evaluation begins tonight."
The amusement vanished from my face.
Tonight.
After ten years of training, tonight was the final obstacle between me and home.
Home.
The word felt strange in my mind.
I had spent so many years imagining my return that I had forgotten what returning actually meant. I imagined running into my mother's arms, hearing her voice, seeing the mansion again, and finding Ryker waiting somewhere with that irritating smile of his.
But what if everything had changed?
What if my mother had learned to live without me?
What if Damien's children barely knew my name?
What if Ryker had forgotten the little girl who once pulled his hair and declared that she would marry him when she grew up?
I clenched my jaw.
Ridiculous.
I wasn't returning to beg anyone to remember me.
I was Skylar Pantoshi.
And I had survived ten years in Russia.
Nobody was going to make me feel small.
"Where is the mission?" I asked.
Viktor handed me a black envelope.
"An abandoned railway station outside the city. Your objective is to retrieve a silver case from a secured room. You will have one opportunity to complete the mission. You are not to contact anyone outside the assigned team."
I examined the envelope.
"What is inside the case?"
"That is not part of your assignment."
"Who owns it?"
"Not part of your assignment."
"Who is guarding it?"
"Miss Pantoshi."
I looked up.
He stared at me.
I smiled.
"Fine. I suppose asking questions is a crime now."
"Curiosity is useful. Disobedience is fatal."
I tucked the envelope into my pocket.
"Then I shall try not to disappoint you."
As I turned to leave, Viktor called after me.
"One more thing. Your return home depends on tonight's result."
I stopped.
For a moment, the room seemed to grow colder.
I had already lost ten years.
I would not lose Christmas too.
"Then you had better prepare my travel arrangements," I said without looking back. "Because I am going home."
---
VIOLET'S POV
I found Violet sitting on my bed when I returned to our quarters.
She was holding the small birthday cake Nonna had insisted on preparing, even though I had told them I didn't want a celebration.
Sixteen.
Apparently, that number deserved candles, cake, and an unreasonable amount of emotional blackmail.
Violet looked up when I entered.
"You look like someone insulted your entire bloodline."
"Master Viktor gave me my final evaluation."
Her face brightened.
"Tonight?"
I nodded.
She set the cake aside and stood.
"Sky, that's wonderful!"
"Wonderful?" I dropped onto the bed. "If I fail, I stay here. If I succeed, I go home. Either way, someone is going to have a miserable night."
"You're going to succeed."
"You sound suspiciously confident."
"Because I've seen you train. I've seen you come back bleeding, exhausted, and furious, only to wake up the next morning and do everything again."
She took my hands.
"You've earned this."
I stared at our joined fingers.
"Violet, what if they don't want me back?"
Her smile faded.
"Who?"
"My family."
She said nothing.
I hated that silence more than any insult.
"Mum has Damien. She has four children now. Four, Violet. Four children who have watched her grow older, celebrated birthdays with her, and fallen asleep in her arms. What am I to them? A name in an old photograph?"
"You're her daughter."
"And what am I to Ryker?"
Violet sighed.
"There it is."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"You've asked me about Ryker at least five times this week."
"Because he's my brother."
"Your stepbrother," she corrected.
I threw a pillow at her.
She caught it, laughing.
"You're impossible."
"And you're avoiding the question."
I rolled onto my back.
Ryker.
Even thinking about him irritated me.
He used to follow me everywhere when we were children. He would steal my sweets, hide my shoes, and then pretend to be my hero when I threatened to tell Damien.
Once, I had bitten his arm so hard that he cried.
I had laughed until he chased me around the garden.
I remembered his little voice telling me that he would always protect me.
Children promised all sorts of foolish things.
We were no longer children.
And I had no idea what kind of man he had become.
"Do you think he remembers me?" I whispered.
Violet's expression softened.
"Skylar, that boy remembers everything about you. The last time Damien called, Ryker asked when you were coming home."
My heart betrayed me with one stupid, hopeful beat.
"He did?"
"Yes."
"What else did he say?"
Violet grinned.
"Ah. So now we're interested."
"Violet!"
"Go and complete your mission, assassin. Return home, and ask him yourself."
I grabbed my jacket.
But before leaving, I looked at her.
"Promise me you'll still be here when I return."
Her smile became smaller.
"Of course."
"Promise."
"I promise."
I hugged her tightly.
For a few seconds, I allowed myself to be sixteen rather than the weapon Russia had spent ten years creating.
Then I pulled away.
"Don't eat my birthday cake."
Violet glanced at the plate.
"I make no promises."
---
THE ABANDONED RAILWAY STATION
The mission began at eleven forty-five that night.
Cold wind swept through the abandoned station, carrying the smell of rust and damp concrete. My black clothes blended into the shadows as I approached the building.
I had studied the location's layout for hours.
Two guards at the main entrance.
One security camera above the eastern corridor.
A locked door leading to the secured room.
The silver case was supposed to be inside.
Simple.
Too simple.
I moved along the outer wall and entered through a broken window. Within minutes, I had passed the first corridor and reached the stairs.
Then I heard voices.
"Did you confirm the girl is coming tonight?"
I froze.
A man answered, his voice low.
"She has to. The old man wants to know whether the Pantoshi girl is ready."
My blood ran cold.
Pantoshi girl.
Me?
"The family has waited long enough," the first man continued. "Once she returns, everything changes."
"What about her mother?"
A pause.
Then the second man laughed.
"Her mother is the reason this entire thing started."
I pressed myself against the wall.
My mother?
The conversation continued, but the next words were drowned out by the rumble of a passing train.
I moved closer.
"...the woman must never find out what happened to the other children."
Other children?
My pulse hammered against my ribs.
The men were no longer discussing my mission.
They were discussing my family.
I reached for the small recording device inside my jacket and switched it on.
Then a floorboard creaked beneath my boot.
Silence.
"Who's there?"
I ran.
A shot struck the wall beside my head.
I ducked behind a pillar, drew my weapon, and fired at the light above the corridor. Darkness swallowed the station.
Shouts erupted.
I moved through the shadows, following the building's layout from memory. One guard rushed past me. I struck him from behind and kept moving.
The secured room was at the end of the eastern corridor.
The door stood open.
Inside, a silver case rested on a metal table.
Beside it lay a photograph.
I reached for the photograph first.
My breath stopped.
It showed my mother.
Mira.
She looked younger, her hair falling over one shoulder as she stood beside a man whose face had been scratched out.
On the back, someone had written a date.
The date my mother disappeared from my life.
Beneath it were three words.
THE FIRST BETRAYAL.
I stared at the photograph until the edges blurred.
A new sound came from behind me.
Slow clapping.
"Well done, Miss Pantoshi."
I spun around.
A man stood in the doorway, dressed in a dark coat. I didn't recognize him, but the way he looked at me made my skin crawl.
"You passed the test," he said.
"What test?"
"The one that was never really about the silver case."
I raised my weapon.
"Who are you?"
He smiled.
"Someone who knows your mother better than you do."
"Start talking."
"Not tonight."
He stepped back into the darkness.
I fired, but the bullet struck the doorframe.
By the time I reached the corridor, he was gone.
I searched the station, but found no trace of him.
Only the silver case remained.
Inside it was a single document, a photograph of three infants, and a folded sheet bearing a name I had not heard in years.
MIRA SOPHIYA VENTPAK.
My mother.
Beneath her name was another.
DAMlEN WOODS PANTOSHI.
And beside both names, written in red ink, was a warning:
WHEN THE DAUGHTER RETURNS, THE MOTHER MUST DISAPPEAR.
My fingers tightened around the paper.
This wasn't a training exercise.
Someone had built this mission around my family.
Someone had known I would come.
And someone wanted me to carry this secret home.
I slipped the documents into my jacket and left the station before the remaining guards could corner me.
My mission was complete.
But I wasn't thinking about my evaluation anymore.
I was thinking about my mother.
About the three infants in the photograph.
About the fourth child who might have been missing from the picture.
And about the possibility that the people who had sent me to Russia had not been protecting me at all.
Perhaps they had been hiding me.
---
THE CALL
I reached our quarters shortly after two in the morning.
Violet was asleep, but Nonna was waiting in the sitting room.
She took one look at my face and rose from her chair.
"What happened?"
I placed the silver case on the table.
"Who are the three babies in this photograph?"
Her expression changed.
It was small.
Almost invisible.
But I saw it.
"Where did you get that?"
"My final mission."
Nonna picked up the photograph with trembling fingers.
For the first time in my life, I saw fear in her eyes.
"Skylar," she whispered. "You must forget what you saw tonight."
I stared at her.
"You're joking."
"Listen to me."
"No. You listen to me. I have spent ten years learning how to survive, how to fight, and how to kill when I have no other choice. I did everything you asked of me. I gave up my childhood. I missed my mother's wedding. I missed my siblings growing up. I missed—"
My voice broke.
I swallowed the pain.
"I'm going home, Nonna. And nobody is going to tell me to forget anything."
She reached for my hand.
"Some truths destroy families."
"Then perhaps those families deserve to be destroyed."
I took the photograph from her.
Then my phone rang.
MUM.
For a moment, I couldn't breathe.
I answered immediately.
"Mum?"
There was no response.
Only a faint, uneven sound, as though someone were struggling to breathe.
"Mum, can you hear me?"
A whisper finally came through.
"Skylar..."
I stood so quickly that the chair behind me toppled over.
"Mum? What's wrong?"
"Listen to me carefully."
Her voice was weak.
Terrified.
"Don't come home."
My stomach twisted.
"What are you talking about? I'm coming home tomorrow. I'm done here, Mum. I'm finally coming home."
A muffled sound came through the phone.
Then a man's voice.
"Tell her goodbye."
"Mum?"
I heard her gasp.
"Skylar, please—"
The line went dead.
I called back.
Once.
Twice.
Ten times.
Nothing.
My hands shook so violently that I nearly dropped the phone.
Nonna grabbed my shoulders.
"What happened?"
I looked at her.
For the first time in ten years, I felt completely helpless.
"Someone has my mother."
The room fell silent.
Then another message appeared on my phone.
Unknown number.
IF YOU WANT MIRA ALIVE, COME HOME ALONE.
A second message followed.
AND BRING THE SILVER CASE.
I stared at the screen.
My final mission was over.
My journey home had begun.
And someone had just declared war on my family.
I wiped my tears with the back of my hand and picked up my weapon.
They had made one mistake.
They had threatened the only woman I would burn the world to protect.
They had given me a reason to return.
And when I found the person responsible, I would make certain they regretted ever learning my name.