“Oh, Gin,” he said in a soft voice. “You don’t really realize what you did tonight, do you? You saved me. Finn too. Douglas would have killed all three of us if you hadn’t stabbed him. Don’t you dare feel bad about stabbing that sick bastard. You did what you had to do. Nothing else.”

The knot in my stomach loosened. Maybe I wasn’t such a monster after all. Or maybe I just didn’t care anymore.

“I want you to stay, Gin,” Fletcher said. “For as long as you want. And, if you’ll let me, if you want to, I’d like to train you.”

I stared at him, confused. “Train me to do what? You’re already teaching me how to cook.”

He hesitated. “To be like me. To do what I do. To be an assassin.”

Maybe I should have been surprised. Shocked. Horrified.

But I wasn’t. Instead, I thought of Douglas, the giant. How he’d come at me and how I’d defended myself. I knew my stabbing him had been more dumb luck than anything else.

But my family was gone, and I was alone. I was tired of living on the streets and being weak and small and helpless.

Tired of hiding from everyone and everything. I looked at Fletcher. It wasn’t just that he was an adult, older than me, taller, more muscled. Fletcher Lane had an inner strength that set him apart from other people. I suddenly realized it was a strength I wanted. A strength I needed to survive.

“What about Finn?” I asked. “He’s your son. Shouldn’t you train him instead?”

Fletcher smiled. “He is my son, and I love him, but he doesn’t have the right temperament. He’s too reckless, too flashy. You’re different. Calmer. You take the time to think things through before you do them.”

I didn’t know about all that. But I decided to take what Fletcher was offering me. Grab on to it with both hands and never look back. Genevieve Snow was dead. Her family was dead. But Gin Blanco was still alive. And I wanted to stay that way.

“Okay,” I said. “You can train me.”

Fletcher nodded. “All right then. We start tonight. Come on. Let’s go back into the restaurant.”

He got to his feet and stretched out his hand to me. I stared at it a minute. I was going to be an assassin. Might as well start acting like one. Which, to me, meant getting to my own feet by myself. Which I did.

Fletcher’s green eyes brightened as he smiled—

I gasped in a breath, waking from the dreamy memory.

It took me a moment to remember where I was, what had happened—and the fact I was probably buried alive.