“Ella? Would you like to explain, or shall I do the honors?” Reality sucks me back into focus and the deep pounding of my heart begins to slowly decapitate. Compose thy self, Ella. He’s just a boy.

I smile, doing what I do best, masking my thoughts. I can see Frost watching me out of the corner of my eye, but I don’t meet his gaze. I can’t. Because I want to punch him straight in the dick. Yeah, okay, so I can’t call dibs on him. We have a thing, that’s all it is. He never promised me anything and I haven’t him, but seeing it happen in front of me wasn’t something I wanted to witness.

“I’m working for Ikea now, and for The Operation…” I pause, and I swear to God I heard him growl. I continue, this time bringing my eyes to his “—as their personal assassin.” His eyes widen, his eyebrows cross in confusion, and then he leans back in his chair and grins.

“That’s cute, kitten, but this is real life shit. You can’t get your brothers to come do your dirty work for you this time.”

And…. I’m pissed.

“Actually—” Ikea cuts in, which is probably a good thing because I’m about to serve Frost up to Satan. She laughs. “You see, that’s why she’s always been the best. You men never see it. You see the blonde hair, the thick lashes, the pouty plump lips, and don’t get me started on the eyes and body, and you think ‘Huh, this girl is cute as shit, I’m going to take her home’, and then you take her to bed, right before she takes you to your funeral.”

I smile sweetly at Frost, circling my finger over my head to form a halo.

“Bullshit.” Is all he says.

“Really not my thing, but thanks.”

He stands, walks around the table and comes close to me. With every step, my heart rate picks up. It’s like a magnet is drawing me in. “I don’t believe you.”

“You don’t need to,” I snap, glaring up at him from where I’m sitting. “But by all means, I can show you if you like.” I finish with a grin.

“Yeah? And what’s your weapon?”

I stand and come chest to face because he’s six-foot-four and I’m five-foot-ten. I search his eyes diligently. “I don’t have a preference, it all depends on the job, but my favorite has to be—”

“—fighting,” he finishes for me.

I nod. “Exactly.”

“Which,” Ikea interrupts our conversation and it’s like an unwanted bucket of ice cold water is splashed over the both of us. “Is perfect.” She comes toward us, wraps her arms around Frost’s midsection and my jaw clenches. She continues to run the palm of her hand over his abs.

Frost keeps his eyes on mine, blatantly ignoring the hot mess behind him. “And how’s that perfect?”

“Well.” I swallow all my anger and jealousy before I rip out Ikeas throat right here and save us all the theatrics. “I don’t believe in killing someone cowardly from a yard away without their knowledge. I believe if you kill them, at least earn your kill, or you’re just a pussy with a gun.”

His eyes darken. “Fuck.”

“Hmmmm.” I put my index finger to my cheek. “Nope, necrophilia isn’t really my thing.”

“And if it was mine?”

I smirk, running my eyes lazily down his body and landing on Ikea’s hands that are still massaging his abs. “Then I can give you your next victim if you like?”

His head goes back as he laughs before taking Ikea’s hands and removing them from his body. He turns to face her. “Another rule. I don’t like public displays of affection. You know, people around here might see it as a weakness.”

Damn. He was good.

“True,” Ikea says, straightening her clothes. She peers around Frost until her eyes fall on me. “Where do your brothers think you are? Because I know they wouldn’t allow this. You’re one of their best assets and the princess of the most notorious underground king known to man.”

“They think I’m attending NYU.” I gaze out the floor to ceiling windows that line the side of the room, sitting back in my chair. “And the princess has been sort of replaced by a queen, so I’ve found myself bored. Besides,” I snap my attention back to Ikea, “they started taking numbers off me since Hodgkin’s.”

“Oh,” she chuckles, leaning on the table, “that was art.”

“What happened?” Frost crosses his arms in front of himself.

“It’s really not that gr—”

“—Are you kidding?” Ikea rolls her eyes. “That case was precisely what put you on my radar. Well, you always intrigued me, but when I saw the tape of that night, I knew I had to have you one day.”

“Okay, now I have to see this,” Frost declares, focusing down on me with a grin.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t smirk if I were you.” Then I stared back toward Ikea. “Well, you’ve got me.”

“That I do.” She pushes off the table. “Come, I’ll show you where you’ll be staying during the time you are here.” I stand and follow her back out the doors I came through. The Operation runs from what they call The Beehive, which is where we are right now. It’s basically a building that looks like one gigantic glass beehive with render windows so no one can see inside from the outside. At the very top is a helipad, and below the helipad is Ikea’s headquarters. No one has been up there, but I’ve heard it’s like a penthouse. Five bedrooms and all the fancy nooks and crannies. That’s about as far as my Beehive knowledge goes. Raze never wanted me on this side of the spectrum and I know that I’ve betrayed him by doing this, but this isn’t only about Frost. This has more to do with Raze. To think he would assume I’d just ride off into the New York sunset and attend college like my whole family isn’t in the middle of a war has made me question his intelligence. We walk down the long corridor where other offices sit behind glass walls.

“So how long do the operations go for?” Frost questions, stepping between Ikea and I. I shoot him a glare and then carry on.

“Six months usually. Though, we have an issue that needs to be taken care of. We need the best, and we need people who have no feelings.” She looks to Frost. “Which is obviously why you’re here.”

“Great to be of service.”

“Oh really,” I snort, crossing my arms in front of myself as we wait near the elevators. “Why is that?”

“Because he’s a psychopath.”

My eyes close and I let out a deep breath of air. Of fucking course he is. I knew he wasn’t joking when he first asked me if I had fucked one, but having it confirmed in such a placid way, was eye-opening. Composing myself, I crank my neck. “Well, that’s great to know.” The elevator comes to a halt and the doors ping open. Stepping inside, my eyes catch Frost’s in the reflection of the mirrors inside, and a moment passed between the two of us. It was just briefly, fleeting, but my heart pounded, and my flesh throbbed, and then it was gone, and I straighten my shoulders. “I’m ready.”