“I fought with myself,” he says, “every step of the way while you were with me, I told myself I needed to get rid of you. You were a threat to me, to my job, to my life, and later you threatened the relationship between me and my brother. I knew it the moment I saw you through the rearview mirror when you had that gun at the back of my head, that desperate, scared look on your face. You threatened everything. But for the first time in my life, I went against everything that I was: a trained killer with a repressed conscience….” His eyes harden and he steps up to me. “…I could’ve let you go a long time ago, but I didn’t. I didn’t want to let you go then and I don’t want to let you go now.”

A shiver moves along both of my arms as he rubs the palms of his hands against them, up and down.

“I am sorry for what you went through,” he says softly. “I want you to stay, more than anything, but if you want nothing more to do with me, I’ll understand.” He presses his lips against the top of my hair and walks toward the door, taking up the black folder from the chest of drawers.

“Victor?” I call out softly before he reaches for the door knob.

He looks back.

I start to say, “I’m glad you didn’t let me go,” but I stop myself and swallow the words. As much as I want to tell him that his words touched me, to let him know that I can never imagine a life without him, I’m still angry about what he did to me and I can’t excuse it. Not yet. Not that easily.

“Was that it?” I ask instead. “The test I went through? Was that the last of it? The only time I’ll have to go through something like that? Because I have to be honest, I don’t want to wake up every morning thinking I’m going to be abducted, or beaten, or drowned. I don’t want to not trust you…”

He places his hand on the knob and turns it. The door cracks open.

Looking back at me he says, “No, there’s just one more thing.”

My heart hardens like a hot stone in my chest. I didn’t expect that.

“The bigger trial is whether or not you can work alongside my brother,” he says. “But you can trust me. And you can trust Niklas. And you’ll never be put through anything like that again.”

He pauses and says, “I hope you’ll stay,” and then leaves the room, closing the door behind him.

Some time passes while I’m left alone again to think about everything. I know that right now, not yesterday, or the day I escaped the compound in Victor’s car, but right now is when the rest of my life begins.

And I know there’s only one right choice.

I leave the bedroom and join Victor, Fredrik and Niklas in the den. They’ve been going on about how Fredrik never knew a thing and how he passed all of Victor and Niklas’ tests. I’ve been listening to them, mostly Fredrik and Niklas talking, as Victor seemed quieter than usual.

The three of them look up at me when I step into the room, their conversation halted mid-sentence.

“Ah, there she is,” Fredrik says with a big, gorgeous smile. He waves his hand toward him. “Come and join us. We were discussing what’s next on the agenda for the four of us.” I can tell that Fredrik isn’t as confident about my mindset as he’s pretending to be.

Niklas simply nods at me.

Victor stands up and holds out his hand, offering me to sit with him.

“I need to say something first,” I answer.

He puts both hands behind his back and then steps to the side, waiting patiently.

I look at all three of them, one by one, and then I stop on Victor.

“If I’m going to be here,” I say, “there are a few things I need to make very clear.”

A flicker of hope moves through Victor’s greenish-blue eyes.

I look over at Fredrik and Niklas again and continue, talking to all of them:

“I do what the hell I want to do,” I say. “I’ll follow Victor’s orders like either of you would, I’ll train until I bleed and I can’t walk straight. I know my place. But not because I’m a girl or because I’m younger than all of you. Or because you think I’ll get ‘hurt’,” I quote with my fingers. “Of course I’m going to get hurt, but I don’t need any of you,” my eyes fall on Victor again, “running to get a goddamned Band-Aid every time I fall down.”

Fredrik laughs lightly. “Hey, no argument here,” he says, putting up both hands and then dropping them back on his knees.

My eyes fall on Niklas. Still, I show no emotion on my face while looking at him. I think I’m just not sure yet which emotions they should be.

He smirks at me, though I know it’s entirely innocent.

“I think you know better than to expect me to come running after you every time you fall,” he says.

I just roll my eyes and turn to Victor.

“Sarai—,” Victor says, but I hold my index finger up at him.

“That’s another thing,” I say. “Sarai Cohen died a long time ago. She died when I was fourteen-years-old and spent my first night in that compound in Mexico.” My finger folds back toward my hand and then I lower it.

I glance at each of them.

“I want to be known from here on out only as Izabel Seyfried.”

All of them look to one another and then nod, looking back at me.

“Izabel?” Victor asks, picking up where I had cut him off.

I look into his eyes.

“I’ll understand if you never forgive me, but—”

“Would you forgive me if it was the other way around?” I ask, trying to make a point that he instantly gets. “Victor, you did what you had to do, just like the night I manipulated you into—.” I stop myself before revealing too much about our personal relationship to Niklas and Fredrik. But I can tell by the look of understanding in Victor’s eyes that he knows what I’m referring to.

“But that’s hardly the same thing.”

“It doesn’t matter,” I say. “Let me just say for the record, right here in front of Pretty Boy and the Devil’s Advocate, the hell I went through is not only forgivable, but was absolutely necessary. I know what I’m involved in.  We kill people, some of us for a living, some of us for revenge. I’m not working at a bank. A lot more than a background check and my credit score has to be taken into account if I’m going to be a part of this. And to be honest, I feel a lot safer around all of you knowing that you will go to such extremes to make sure that everyone in this room can be trusted. That anyone who joins us later will be put through the same hell.”

My eyes fall on Victor once more. “There’s nothing to forgive,” I say and his face softens.

Niklas stands up from the leather chair.

“Sar—Izabel,” he corrects himself, stepping up closer to me. “Look, I do need to say one thing to you. I’m very sorry for shooting you in Los Angeles. I really am. I won’t ever try to hurt you again.”

“I believe you,” I say, and by the looks on all of their faces, none of them expected it. “I think it’s safe to say that I’ll have a hard time even being in the same room as you, Niklas. I’m not enjoying it right now. Honestly, I’d rather not have to see you much. I think you’re a dick, and a crazy psychopath who belongs in a prison mental institution. I’ll never fucking like you and I doubt I’ll ever have any respect for you. But you’re Victor’s brother, and when I begged him not to kill you, it was for a reason and I don’t regret it. But I’ll never like you and I’m warning you to stay-the-fuck-outta-my-way.”

He raises both hands out at his sides in a surrendering fashion, and takes a step back. “All right, all right, I get it. Out of your way.” He laughs lightly.

It’s mostly for show. I know he still has his issues with me—he’s as bullheaded as I am—but for Victor’s sake, he’ll tolerate me as much as I’ll tolerate him. I despise that constant cocky look he wears. I despise his confidence and his arrogance and I anticipate that Niklas and I will butt heads a lot. But for Victor, I’ll endure it.

Niklas turns his back to me and starts toward the chair.

“Niklas,” I say, and he stops to look at me.

I move closer.

“There’s just one more thing I want to say to you.”

“Yeah?” He turns around fully and watches me curiously, waiting.

When I’m in arm’s reach I pull my fist back and then bury it against the side of his face, right along his jaw. The force of the blow sends a painful tremor through my hand. I try shaking out the pain by spreading and wiggling my fingers, but that just makes it worse.

“Owww, shit! What’s your damn problem?” Niklas holds his hand over the corner of his mouth. “Never mind. I get it. I shot you and now we’re even. I deserved it.” With his hand still over his mouth as if he’s trying to pop his jaw back into place, he moves the rest of the way toward the chair and sits heavily into it.

“That wasn’t because you shot me,” I snap. “That was for killing Stephens. He was mine.” I point at him. “And the only way we’ll ever be even for you shooting me is if I shoot you back. So like I said before, stay out of my way.”

Niklas looks across at Victor standing behind me, giving him a look that reads Is she for real? Victor doesn’t say anything, but when I glance back at him briefly, I notice he’s smiling.

Fredrik is lounging against the sofa with his arm across the back and a big grin on his face.

Finally, I take Victor’s hand and his offer to sit down. I’m too sore to stand up on my own for too long. He walks me to the sofa and helps me onto the soft cushion, holding my hand until I’m all the way down. And then he sits beside me.

Fredrik leans over and looks at me on the other side of Victor, his dark, charming smile in-tact.

“I’m glad you’re with us,” he says. “Of course, you have a lot of training ahead of you, according to Faust here.” He nods in Victor’s direction. “But something tells me you’re a natural.” He winks. “Stubborn. Reckless. Mouthy. So unladylike. But I probably wouldn’t like you much if you weren’t all of those things.”

“Thank you, Fredrik,” I say with sincerity and a smirk.

Niklas leans back in the chair, propping his black military-style boot on his knee. I don’t know why, but I make note of that. Military boots? I look the rest of him over. Dark jeans. Plain gray t-shirt that fits tight around his bicep muscles. Disheveled hair.

I look to and from him and the always-sophisticated Victor, and I can’t help but wonder if I’m missing something. I glance around Victor at Fredrik to his right, and like Victor, Fredrik looks the same as he always does, in expensive dress shoes and a refined suit.

“Why is he dressed like that?” I ask Victor, indicating Niklas with the tilt of my head.

Victor glances over momentarily, but it’s Niklas who answers.

“Because I prefer it over those ridiculous suits,” he says. “And since I’m no longer with the Order, I feel like I can dress however the hell I want.”

Surprised, my eyes fall back on Victor without moving my head.

Victor nods a few times, confirming what Niklas said.

“He left days ago,” Victor says. “Fredrik is the only one still on the inside.”

“But…why?” I ask. “I mean, wouldn’t it be better if Niklas was there keeping tabs on Vonnegut, especially where you’re concerned?”

“I left because I had to,” Niklas says. “It was taking me too long to kill Victor.”

“And as expected,” Victor adds, “Vonnegut was beginning to question Niklas’ loyalty. Vonnegut may not know that Niklas and I are brothers, but we’ve had a close working relationship for many years. It was taking too long and it was getting too risky.”

I let out a worried breath and start to lean against the couch until I remember my back.

I look at Fredrik. “What about you?” I ask. “Does the Order know about your relationship with Victor? Or Niklas, for that matter?”

Fredrik smiles at Victor. “See, she’s already hard at work,” he says with light laughter and then looks back at me. “The Order knows I worked with Victor a few times in the past, but not anymore than anyone else he’s ever worked with. As far as Niklas, when Victor went rogue, I was approached by Niklas—now we all know why—to help him find Victor. I was under the impression that I was to report to Niklas from now on.”

“But Vonnegut never knew of my involvement with Fredrik,” Niklas speaks up.

“So for now,” Victor says, “Fredrik is safe in the Order.”

“And I’m their only eyes and ears left on the inside,” Fredrik adds.

“Wow,” I say, shaking my head, trying to take all of this in and what it means for us.