Chapter Thirty Nine: My Ancient Bloodline

"Remember me," Aishen said with unwavering pride.

I smirked. She had escaped the bomb that exploded in Lours house. She was nothing but trouble.

"Solomon Wroth Wis... Who is he? Why does he want me dead? Why does he have a great grudge on me?" I asked, scanning the dimly lit room. The air was thick, poorly ventilated. Three doors lined the walls. Was this a safe house or a prison?

Aishen chuckled at my confusion. "Solomon Wroth? What does he want? Why did he send you after me?" I demanded.

She smiled, eyes gleaming with amusement. "To answer your question, you're on a loose end. I was sent to eliminate you." She took a step forward, tilting her head. "Solomon Wroth wants this." She twirled a penknife between her fingers. "I'm just an assassin sent to clean up his mess."

My gaze hardened. "An assassin?"

Yes. I knew she was from the Assassin Club. It was a federation for trained killers. I was one of them a level two, once upon a time.