Top Assassins Call Me The Lady Boss novel Chapter 121

Chapter 121: Why?

Chapter Hundred and Twenty-One

A faint rustle stirred the quiet room. Matilda’s eyelashes fluttered, her brow knitting as consciousness crept back in.

The sterile scent of antiseptic lingered in her nostrils, mingling with the faint aroma of clean linen. Her shoulder throbbed with a dull, persistent ache that pulsed with each heartbeat.

She attempted to sit up, but a sharp gasp escaped her lips as pain lanced through her arm. The sudden movement sent a wave of dizziness crashing over her.

"Easy," Markus’s voice cut through the haze. It was firm yet gentle. He was at her side in an instant, with his hands steadying her as she struggled to rise.

"I need to change," she murmured, her voice hoarse.

He reached for a neatly folded set of clothes on the nearby chair. It was a soft, oversized hoodie and a pair of sweatpants. "Here," he said, handing them to her. "Take your time." pointing at her shoulders.

She nodded, accepting the clothes with a grateful smile. He stepped out, closing the door behind him to grant her privacy.

Minutes later, she emerged, the hoodie swallowing her frame, sleeves extending past her fingertips. Her hair was tousled, and fatigue etched lines beneath her eyes, but she managed a small smile.

"Feeling better?" Markus asked, his gaze scanning her for any signs of distress.

She nodded slowly. "It still hurts, but I guess I will live."

He gestured toward the hallway. "We need to go."

They entered into the living room, the soft hum of the air conditioning filling the silence.

"Do you know who attacked us?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Markus shook his head. "Not yet. But I am looking into it."

She sighed, leaning against the couch. "This... this is not the day I imagined. Getting shot on my birthday was not on the agenda."

He offered a wry smile. "It rarely is."

"I used to think the thrill, the danger, it was all part of the Mafia life. But now... I see why Asli tried to keep me away from it."

Markus’s expression softened. "You can clearly see she had her reasons."

She looked at him, eyes searching. "Yes, yes, and after today, I’m grateful. Thank you. For everything."

He nodded, while he walked towards the door. "Come on. Let us get you home before Asli hears about this from someone else."

The drive was quiet. She stared out the window, lost in thought, while Markus navigated the streets with practiced ease.

’Was this what Asli always goes through?’ she thought. Asli had always handled it so well, that she almost thought she was not human. To the extent she had thought it never could hurt that much.

But for her to get her first gun wound, she couldn’t help but wonder how much Asli had gotten shot for her to get used to it.

As they pulled into the driveway, the porch light flicked on, illuminating the happy faces of her aunt and the stern look on Asli.

"Matilda!" her aunt exclaimed, rushing forward to embrace her. "We were just talking about you! Hope you had fun."

Matilda thought to herself how they all didn’t realize she changed her clothing.

Asli approached, her eyes narrowing as she sniffed the air. "You smell... familiar. Like blood."

Matilda froze, her gaze dropping.

Asli’s eyes widened. "Whose blood is that?" It seemed she was now realizing the baggy clothes.

Markus stepped forward, his tone calm. "It is a long story. She was shot, but she is okay now."

Her aunt gasped, hand covering her mouth in shock.

Asli’s expression darkened. Without warning, she punched Markus square in the cheek.

He staggered back, more surprised than hurt.

"What was that for?" He yelled. "I did not say I shot her!"

Markus didn’t flinch when Asli’s fist connected with his cheek. His jaw tightened as he took the hit, absorbing the sting without a word. Matilda gasped, reaching out instinctively, but he raised a hand to stop her.

"I deserved that," he muttered, voice low.

"You sure as hell did," Asli snapped, her eyes fierce, shoulders trembling with emotion. "How could you let this happen under your watch?"

"I did not let anything happen," he said, his voice calm but clipped. "I reacted the moment I noticed there was something off."

Matilda’s aunt placed a protective hand on her shoulder, worry etched deep into her brow.

Asli began to yell. "I trusted you, Markus. We thought she would be safe with you."

"She was supposed to be," he said, stepping back. The guilt clawing at his chest hadn’t left since the moment he saw her bleeding in his arms.

Markus stood outside, pacing the stone path that led to his car. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out his phone.

He dialed a number and held the phone to his ear. It rang twice.

"Yeah, boss?"

"Is there still no news for me? I can’t wait. Trace every face that was in that café. Every phone ping, every security cam within five blocks. I want names before sunrise," he growled.

There was a brief pause. "Copy that."

He hung up and leaned against the car, exhaling. The night air was sharp, but not sharp enough to cool the fire in his veins.

His hand balled into a fist at his side.

Markus didn’t return to the villa guest room. Instead, he drove to his safe apartment. Just like Ahmet, he also has an apartment for himself.

He needed quiet, needed access to his private surveillance logs, and needed to act without anyone breathing down his neck.

Inside, he set up his gear as he got the notification from his man that some footage had been sent. Laptop open. Video feeds looping. Face recognition software humming.

He didn’t even remember the last time he did any IT work. The café’s footage had already been uploaded. He scrubbed through frames, narrowing in on the ones who ran before the first shot.

"There," he muttered, pausing on a man with a faded cap and a limp. "You are not new."

He clicked, isolated, and enhanced the image.

A file popped up. Ex-military. Indian national. Linked to a splinter group that Ahmet once clashed with seven years ago.

Why was he after them now? Why did he not attack Ahmet but him? Why did they have to shoot Matilda?

Oh, he was going to tear him and his men into pieces.

Markus grinned coldly. The kind of smile that promised retribution.

He sent the file to his crew.

Then, he sat back and let the silence wash over him. For a moment, all he saw was her. Matilda looked up at him from the ground, blood staining her birthday dress, eyes wide in pain.

He shut his laptop with a snap and stood. He had never been scared before but seeing her in that state scared him.

Why?