Ruthless Creatures by J.T. Geissinger

I also can’t wait to set it on fire and put it out with a
hammer.
I don’t know which emotion I’m feeling the most, but
they’re all gathered into a horrible knot in my stomach and are
writhing around like a basket of poisonous snakes.
Worst of all, thoughts of Kage keep bossily shoving
themselves to the forefront of my mind, insisting on staying
even when I shove them back.
I always thought love and hate were two very different
things, but right now, they’re inseparable.
I know it’s only shock and adrenaline that’s keeping me
from falling completely apart.
Keeping my heart from completely breaking.
Keeping me from clawing my eyes out in pain.
I’d start a support group for women who’ve fallen in love
with and been betrayed by the assassin who was sent to kill
them, but the only member would be me.
Help. I’m going insane.
The cab pulls to a stop. I must’ve fallen asleep, but now
I’m wide awake, staring out the window at a massive iron gate
flanked by two tall stone columns capped with carved lions.
Behind the gate, up a winding gravel road, is a house,
perched at the top of a hill overlooking the crystal-blue
Caribbean Sea.
No. House is the wrong word.
It’s a palace.
Glowing white in the setting sun, the estate sprawls over
several acres of manicured grounds. Tiered stone fountains
splash into pools. Scarlet bougainvillea cascades over marble
balustrades. A peacock wanders past, regally spreading his
plumage.
And in the middle of it all, at the main entrance of the
main building, two huge dark oak doors sit open wide.