Top Assassins Call Me The Lady Boss novel Chapter 167

Chapter 167: Controlling himself

Chapter One Hundred and Sixty- Seven

The name detonated behind Ahmet’s eyes without warning.

It was not loud. It did not need to be. It lodged itself there, ticking, spreading heat where there shouldn’t have been any. His gaze flicked back to her before he could stop it, just in time to catch the corner of her mouth lift. Small. Automatic. The kind of smile people didn’t think about before wearing.

That was what did it.

It was not the name alone. It was not even the man behind it. It was the way her face softened, the way her shoulders loosened as if something safe had brushed past her ear.

Ahmet’s fingers curled slowly at his side.

He stayed where he was. Stayed silent. Stayed still. Even when every instinct screamed otherwise.

Everything was wrong about this woman. Her shooting him, her not believing her dad was capable of all the atrocities, her thinking she only gave in because she was paying him to keep quiet, and then her having a stupid crush or whatever it was for Demir.

She was not his to save.

She ended the call and looked up at him like nothing had shifted in the room, like the air hadn’t thickened.

"He said we needed to discuss something," she said, folding her arms across her chest.

The movement was defensive. He noticed that too. Something sharp tore out of him before he could grind it down.

"How does that concern me?" His voice cracked against the walls. When he had asked her to call Markus to open the door, she didn’t listen but now that Demir wanted to see her, she was willing to go home. "Call Markus to open the door so you can run back to your boyfriend."

The word boyfriend landed harder than he meant it to.

Her eyes widened, it was just a fraction. A flinch she tried to swallow.

"He’s not my boyfriend," she said quickly. She didn’t hesitate. That should have mattered.

Yet, it didn’t.

Ahmet laughed once, bitter and humorless. He had been shot before, even by her. He remembered the way the impact had bloomed hot and fast, how his body had accepted it without argument. He remembered thinking and knowing he’d live.

That pain had been cleaner.

This one crawled silently.

He had stood with a gun aimed at her once. Had weighed the distance. The angle. The certainty. Yet, he had lowered it and chosen to investigate instead of killing her. He had chosen patience. Chosen her. He even apologized for pointing a gun at her.

But, she’d had days. Time. Space. And still, she had pulled the trigger.

She hadn’t apologized. Hadn’t even flinched afterward. He watched her turn her back at him and walk away before he went unconscious. If only Markus had not saved him. The thought tightened his jaw until it ached.

Her denying Demir as her boyfriend meant nothing. They didn’t erase the way her mouth had curved when she heard his voice on the phone. They didn’t undo the ease in her shoulders, the softness that appeared without permission. Anyone with eyes could see it. He didn’t need labels to understand where Demir stood with her.

Whereas he could get shot without blinking and thinking he’d forgive her just because she shot him strategically. The fck she even refused to apologize and had the audacity to tell him he owed her.

His jaw tightened.

People called her impulsive. Reckless. Too quick to act, too quick to decide. They said it like a flaw they admired from a distance. But they hadn’t been close enough to feel the fallout. He had. He had been close enough to believe that sharing a bed meant something more than convenience. Close enough to think it bought him at least a moment of trust.

Instead, it bought him a scar.

The anger kept rising, thick and restless, with nowhere to go. That was the part he despised most and it was not the hurt, not even the betrayal, but the helplessness of it. The inability to strike back. To punish her as he’d do to anyone else. To make the pressure ease.

For a moment, he tried to cling to the thought that she was her father’s accomplice. It would’ve been easier. Cleaner. Something solid to hate.

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