Top Assassins Call Me The Lady Boss novel Chapter 180

Chapter 180: From her

Chapter One Hundred and Eighty

Ahmet hadn’t imagined the night ending like this. He had pictured her staying, maybe just a little longer. He had hoped the night would end with her choosing him, even if only for a moment, even if the world outside the room was still burning.

All night, the echo of her voice clung to him; sharp, wounded, and resolute. He had gone into the evening believing clarity would bring them closer. He had seen it in her eyes, felt it in the pauses between words, the way she lingered like she wanted to stay. Whatever stood between them, it hadn’t been indifference.

But now everything felt splintered.

Lying awake, staring at the ceiling until dawn bled through the curtains, he kept circling the same thought: truth never came without distortion. Even lies carried fragments of it. Maybe something had happened between their fathers. Maybe blood had been spilled but not in the way Marco had painted it for her.

His father wasn’t an innocent man. Ahmet had also never pretended otherwise. But wiping out an entire family? Women, and children? That didn’t fit. His father killed when it was demanded, when it was strategic, when it was necessary. What Asli accused him of, that wasn’t the man he knew as his father.

Marco? The way he ruled, through it all, was different. So if she saw him as a saint, why did she think...

Still, the thought gnawed at him.

"Evil or not," he reminded himself, "that is still Asli’s family my father must’ve killed."

Giving up wasn’t in his blood either. Not on her. Not like this. If Marco had planted a lie deep enough to turn her into a weapon, Ahmet would tear it out at the root before it destroyed everything he loved... including her.

He waited for morning only because he had no choice.

And when it was morning, he drove to the Villa.

By the time he pulled into the villa, the sun was already high. His parents were in the hall, his mother reclining comfortably while his father sat beside her, massaging her feet like the world had never known violence.

They both looked up and smiled.

"We hardly see you anymore," his mother said lightly.

Ahmet returned the smile out of habit. "Someone retired early and dumped all the work on me."

His father chuckled. "You’ll retire too one day. It’s just a matter of time." How he wished it would be that simple for him.

His father looked up. His thumbs continued their slow, practiced circles against his mother’s feet, unbothered, and unhurried. "This must be serious," he said mildly. "You’ve hardly involved me since I retired. What is it?"

Ahmet shifted, suddenly aware of his mother’s sharp, curious, and already suspicious gaze on him. "It’s not... it’s not like that," he said, forcing a lightness into his voice. "Come on, Dad. Look at Mum. She’s already planning my execution."

His mother huffed softly, her glare deepening, and Ahmet lifted his hands in surrender, as if that might stop whatever was coming next.

His mother narrowed her eyes and pointed at him briefly. "You promised not to bother him."

"I promised you’d have him all to yourself after retirement," Ahmet countered. "This is just questions. No guns. See? I have no knives."

She sighed theatrically and reached for the remote. "Fine. I’ll rewatch my favorite singer." She paused, squinting at the screen. "I wonder what happened to her. She had such a brilliant career, then she just... faded."

Ahmet stiffened. "What?"

"Lisa," his mother said fondly. "She no longer comes on tv as often as she used to. She’s taking a break. She has such a beautiful soul. Like an angel."

He burst out laughing before he could stop himself.

"What?" she demanded defensively. "She is an angel."

"You don’t know her." His father chipped in but his mother kept insisting.

"Of course," he muttered, eyes drifting to the screen.

Asli stared back at him from the screen. The soft lighting, gentle smile, and the illusion of her being someone else, were flawless. She looked like someone who freed animals from cages, not someone who pulled triggers without flinching. For a split second, he wondered who she might have been if Marco had never touched her life.

The thought punched straight through his chest. ’What if your father hadn’t killed her family?’ The question gnawed at him.

"Ahmet!" his mother snapped. "Your father’s been calling you."

His father smiled faintly. "An angel is always drawn to the devil and the devil is also always drawn to the Angel. Just like I’m drawn to your mother."

Ahmet scoffed. "That’s pushing it."

"So our son is the devil now?" his mother shot back.

Before Ahmet could respond, his father cleared his throat. "No. Our son is the angel. That one..." he nodded at the screen, ".. is the devil."

"Absolutely not," his mother laughed. "You know your son isn’t innocent."

You don’t even know her," his father said, finally looking up. "Have you seen the stance she takes? I’d almost say she’s a trained fighter."

"What? No way. Maybe she knows self-defense, every celebrity must’ve been tasked to learn that. She’s fragile." His mother scoffed. "She even fainted at the sight of blood. That girl couldn’t hurt a fly."

His father’s gaze sharpened. "Then how did the blood come into the picture? Was it not hers?"

"They addressed it in a press conference," she replied easily. "She got injured while filming a music video."

Ahmet nearly laughed. ’If only you knew.’ He wanted to tell her. Why did she like Asli? Was it her voice? Clearly, she was a bad dancer. How different was Lisa from Asli?

Lisa was someone his mother adored, too much, in fact. Ironically, she was everything his mother claimed to hate.

"You know what," Ahmet said, forcing a grin as he neared his father, "can I steal Dad for a few seconds. I don’t know whether you remember, but I had asked at first. Then you two can go back to arguing about who’s an angel and who’s a devil." He paused, smirking. "For the record, I am not an angel. Never call me that, mum."

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