The Assassins Kiss

Chapter 9

Ezra's POV

It's been two whole weeks since I was kidnapped.

It feels longer. Like time here drags on just to mock me.

I haven't left my room in a week.

Haven't spoken to anyone since they found out I can't get pregnant. Not that I expected sympathy—but the shift in the air was impossible to ignore. Like I was something broken. Useless.

Oh well. Not like they were knocking down my door to begin with.

Roman's the only one who's actually tried. He's been weirdly... nice. Always cracking jokes, trying to pull me into conversations, asking if I want to hang out or spar. He's annoying, but it feels less like he's trying to manipulate me. I don't trust him. But I don't hate him.

Killian, on the other hand, makes me want to throw something every time he breathes in my direction. He's been nothing but rude. Condescending. Like my existence personally offends him.

And then there's Luca. The boss. The reason I'm here in the first place. He's quiet, brooding, calculated. Hot as hell—unfortunately. That's probably the only thing he has going for him.

His face says "smoldering mafia prince," but his personality screams "emotional constipation." Still... I'd be lying if I said I hadn't caught myself looking.

Too bad looks don't make someone trustworthy.

I sigh and finally push myself off the bed. The air in my room feels too thick, too still. I need to move. Breathe. Pretend I'm not a prisoner in a gilded cage.

I open my door and head downstairs, bare feet silent against the cold wood.

The kitchen is quiet—too quiet. But I'm starving, and at this point, silence is better than more questions or sideways glances.

Time to find something to eat and try to feel human again.

"Oh hey, psycho. Haven't seen you in a while," Roman says, ruffling the top of my head like I'm his kid sister or something.

Despite myself, a small smile slips out.

Roman's probably my favorite here—if I had to pick one. He's just... Roman. Annoying, loud, too playful for his own good, but there's something genuine about him.

I step into the kitchen fully, but before I can even reach the fridge, I hear Killian mutter under his breath, just loud enough for me to catch it.

"Probabilmente vuole la nostra pietà per non essere in grado di avere figli." (She probably wants our pity for not being able to have kids)

I freeze.

Luca smirks, like it's all some kind of joke.

Roman's mood shifts immediately. His jaw tightens as he shoots them a glare. "That's rude."

I don't let it slide. I turn to Killian, eyes sharp. "Se ricordo bene siete voi che volevate scoprire cose su di me." (If I remember correctly, you're the ones who wanted to know things about me)

He blinks, caught off guard, but I'm not finished.

"Ti ho dato informazioni. Non è colpa mia, non è che tu volevi." I take a step closer, voice calm but cutting. (I gave you information. Not my fault it's not what you wanted.)

"Forse essere più specifico la prossima volta." I add with a smirk, throwing in a wink for good measure. (Maybe be more specific next time)

Killian raises an eyebrow, that smug grin pulling at his lips. "Oh, I forgot you were Italian."