Ace in a heartbeat.

"Isla Inej Griffon!"

There was instantly a gun in Ace's hand. She aimed it at the door, but―

Mavis was holding up a backpack, shaking it in the air of the corridor. Across the hall, Ace could see the door to Isla's hotel room open.

"What is this?" Mavis demanded.

Just two days ago, Ace had watched American cartoon shows the whole night. This moment reminded her of the Tasmanian devil, with steam rising from his ears.

Isla blinked sleepily as she shuffled to the doorway of her room.

"What is going on?" Ace said. Tightening her fingers on the gun.

She was already scanning the rooms, the hallway―

"Hey, Ace?" Isla said, a small, evil grin forming on her lips. "You're naked."

Ace looked down. She was wearing a lace bra and panties, but―that was all.

"Ace isn't naked," Mavis said, flustered. "And you are in so much trouble right now you shouldn't even talk, young lady!"

"I'm innocent," Isla said automatically.

"She is innocent," Ace agreed.

"Not you, too!" Mavis snapped. She waved the bag wildly in the air. "Care to explain this?"

"Do it in your own room!" someone shouted through the wall. "It's the ass crack of dawn, go to sleep!"

Mavis took off her shoe and smacked the wall. "Fuck yourself and your mother, puta!"

Then she grabbed Isla, dragging her back into the room along with Ace.

"What," Mavis seethed, "is this?"

"What?" Isla said.

"I said, what is this? Don't pretend like you don't know what I'm talking about! You have an IQ of 159, so you better start explaining."

"I do not understand," Ace said. "You are holding a Dora backpack. What is the problem?"

"The problem is that my daughter has a wallet filled with $872 of cash! Pure cash!" Mavis placed both hands on either side of Isla's face, kneeling down. "Are you a drug dealer? You can tell me if you're a drug dealer. I can deal with it." Mavis took a breath. "That's a lie. If you tell me you're a drug dealer, I'm going to freak the fuck out. Please tell me you're not a drug dealer." Mavis took another breath. "Actually, just tell me the truth. I don't mind. I can hear it."

Isla bit her lip. "I'm not a drug dealer."

"Where did that money come from?"

Ace watched as Isla's face scrunched up, as if she was deciding whether or not it would be worth it to tell her mother the truth.

Finally, she relented.

"I sold my soul," Isla said, hanging her head.

"Isla. Inej. Griffon."

"Fine, I have a business."

"You have a business selling drugs? Dios mio. I'm going to faint."

"No!" Isla said. "I'm not selling drugs. I charge people money to write their homework for them."

"You made $872 profiting off of people who don't do their homework. Kids your age don't have that kind of money. You're in second grade."

Isla's eyes shifted away guiltily. "I never said they were my age."

"What?"

"They're from the university."

"What university?"

"Oh, lots of them, right, Ace?" Isla shot her a pleading look. "Lots and lots."

Ace cleared her throat. She had no idea what was going on. "Lots of them."

Mavis crossed her arms. "Like what universities?"

"Harvard," Isla squeaked out. "Dartmouth. Yale. John Hopkins. Princeton. Columbia."

"You're doing homework for university kids and making money off of it?" Mavis shouted. "Are you out of your mind? That's illegal, you know that?"

"That's besides the point."

"How is that besides the point?"

"Well, it just is!"

Ace nodded gravely. "It just is."

"You," Mavis hissed, rounding on Ace. "Hijo de puta. Did you know about this? Have you been helping her?"

"Nyet," Ace said. "I―"

"She's been here all of three days, Mom. Pollas en vinagre."

Mavis narrowed her eyes at Ace. "How does she already have you wrapped around her finger? And you, Isla. You are in so much trouble. I―what did you just say to me?"

"I learned it from my friend," Isla said proudly.

Mavis's face turned a brilliant shade of red. "How many times have I told you that I did not teach you Spanish to use the swear words?"

"Only seven times," Isla said sweetly.

Ace tilted her head. "What did she say?"

"Que te folle un pez," Isla said.

"Isla!" Mavis shouted. "That isn't what you just said!"

"Me cago en todo lo que se menea."

"Oh, my God," Mavis said, throwing her arms up. "I created a monster."

Ace glanced back and forth. "What did she just say?"

"Well," Mavis said, gritting her teeth, "first, she said dicks in vinegar. Then she said, I hope you fuck a fish. And lastly, she said, I shit on everything that moves."

Ace tried―and failed―not to laugh.

"Not you, too," Mavis said. "That's it. I'm getting our things ready, and then we're going. I don't want to see that evil vampire bitch again."

Ace frowned. Evil vampire bitch? Was she talking about Galina?

Once Mavis had disappeared into the room across the hallway, Ace knelt down in front of Isla.

"I have to tell you something serious."

"Oh, Ace. I swear it's not a big deal. And I think it might be a bad time to mention to her that the money she found is not even a quarter of what I've made."

Ace shook her head, though she smiled. "Not about that."

"Is it because of the swearing? Because those were really creative. Come on. How many times has someone told you to fuck a fish?"

"Also not that," Ace said. "Although you are driving your mother crazy. You should try to be a little more understanding."

"Ace," Isla groaned. "I thought you had my back!"

"If you promise to not give your mother a heart attack, I will teach you how to swear in Russian."

Isla's eyes lit up. "Deal."

Ace steadied Isla's shoulders. "Isla, today your mother and I will be leaving for Russia. The Mafia ordered a contract for you both, and this is the only way to ensure your safety."

"You're leaving?"

"Yes. For a little while."

"But you'll come back, won't you?"

Ace faltered, just slightly. "I will do everything I can to try."

Pink stained Isla's cheeks. "My mom will be okay, won't you? You'll take care of her, right, Ace?"

"I will," Ace said quietly.

"Promise me," Isla said suddenly. "Promise me you'll bring her back. Promise me you'll protect her."

Ace hesitated. She knew what her family was like. She knew the Russian mob inside out―what her brother was capable of, what loyalty there meant.

"I can't," Ace said softly. "I will do everything in my power to try, but―"

"Promise me," Isla said, holding back tears. "You have to promise me, Ace!"

"Okay," Ace breathed. "Okay, I . . . I promise."

A small smile curved Isla's mouth. She looked just like her mother―warm brown skin, deep brown hair, although Isla's barely touched her shoulders. And that same wonderful, vibrant laugh.

"Be good, okay, kiska?" Ace said.

"What does that mean?"

"'Kitten.'"

Before Ace could stop her, before Ace could even realize what was going on, Isla wrapped her tiny arms around Ace's neck. Burying her face in her shoulder.

For a moment, Ace remained as still as stone. And then she softened―just fractionally.

Hesitantly, she enfolded Isla in her arms.

"Can you teach me one swear word right now?" Isla whispered.

Ace grinned. "Blyad."

shielding her eyes from the sun. "That's Robin. I see her in the front."

"Which one?" Ace asked.

"She's wearing the white pantsuit, and she's got that red hair. Kind of a middle-aged Audrey Hepburn look."

Isla leaned out the window. "She looks like a cougar!"

Ace heard the audible sound of Mavis coughing.

"Baby, what do you know about cougars?"

"They're like hot older women who prey on―"

Ace parked the car suddenly, saving Isla from finishing that sentence.

Mavis glanced at her gratefully.

"And you are sure this . . . Robin will take her in?"

Mavis breathed in, tucking locks of hair back behind both ears. "God, I hope so."

"I love Aunt Robin," Isla said. "She let me come with her to the strip club once."

"She did what?" Mavis spluttered. She twisted in her seat so she could look back at Isla in the backseat. "Okay . . . never mind. We'll talk about it later."

But something flickered through her eyes, swiftly enough that Ace almost missed it.

Ace knew what it was, and she reached out to curl her fingers gently around Mavis's wrist, just as Mavis opened the car door.

Ace cleared her throat. "This will not be your last goodbye, okay?"

Mavis's eyes flicked up from Ace's hand to her eyes. And her cheeks pinkened.

"Don't make those kinds of promises," she hissed. "You already swore to me you wouldn't."

She yanked her hand away and climbed out of the passenger seat.

Isla hurried after her mom. Once Ace was standing in the parking lot, she locked the car door and followed them both.

The woman named Robin smiled warmly when she saw Mavis.

"Mavis," she said. "And Isla."

"Aunt Robin!"

In the hot midday light, the sun painted Robin's red hair in an outline of pale yellow. Her pantsuit was blindingly white, and her manicured hands clasped together.

"You missed last night's shift," Robin said, scanning Mavis. "And . . ." Her eyes fell on Ace. "Who is this?"

Mavis looked back. "That's―uh, that's Blondie. My . . ."

"Wife!" Isla squealed. "They got married last night."

Robin sighed, disapproval lining her face. "Mavis, you do know the cause of my second marriage, don't you? I thought I warned you―"

"It wasn't because I was drunk," Mavis said quickly. "It was important, I promise. I'll explain it to you later."

"I assume, then, that I know now why you weren't at work last night?"

Ace used the same stare now as she did on prisoners of war, right before she delivered the death blow. "Mavis said it was important. It was important."

Robin's lip curled. "I thought you hated blondes, Mav."

Ace pulled out her gun.

Mavis immediately threw out her hand, blocking Robin's view of Ace. "Anyways, um―Robin, is it okay if Isla stays with you for a little? It'll only be until we get back from―until we get back."

"Yes, that's fine," Robin said impatiently. "But, you know, you still have work and you haven't cleared―"

"Please," Mavis said softly. "It's important."

Robin's eyes closed. She let out a breath. "Alright, take your . . . wife and go. I'll take care of Isla."

When Mavis pulled her daughter into the country club's gazebo for a final goodbye, Robin and Ace were left alone.

"Married, huh?" Robin said. "You're not good enough for her. No one is."

"I am aware," Ace said, equally coldly.

It seemed to surprise Robin. "Where did you say you were from? That accent . . . that's familiar."

Ace tightened her fingers on the gun inside her jacket. "Russia."

"So what do you for a living?"

"I assassinate enemies of the Russian Mafia."

Robin laughed icily. "I see. So you have a sense of humour. Do you live here in the U.S?"

"I used to live in Moscow. Until two days ago, I lived in Orenburg Oblast."

Robin's eyebrows pulled together, but before she could ask, there was a waiter at her side. "Danielson is requesting Valentina for tonight. He wants a private audience."

Valentina. Mavis's stripper name.

"Tell him Valentina can't be booked right now," Robin said distractedly. "She's off work."

The waiter wiped sweat from his glossy brow. "Ma'am, he won't take no for an answer."

"I don't care," Robin said coolly. "Go tell him." The waiter hurried away, and she continued, "Did you say Orenburg Oblast? Isn't that . . . that's where Black Dolphin Prison is located, isn't it?"

"Yes," Ace said.

"You know, Blondie, I make it my job to know everything about criminals from all over the world. And I could swear that just three nights ago, someone broke out of Black Dolphin Prison with the help of the Russian Mafia."

Slow realization was dawning in Robin's eyes.

About time, Ace thought coldly. Americans were stupid.

But before Robin could speak again, the waiter was back.

"He's really not listening," the waiter said, tugging at the collar of his uniform. "He doesn't understand why he can't book Valentina."

Robin set her jaw. "I will handle this, then."

At the gazebo in the distance, partially hidden by the white columns, Ace saw Isla hugging Mavis, tears in her eyes.

Ace's attention snapped back to Robin when she said, "Blondie."

"Yes."

"You weren't lying, were you? About being a Russian assassin?"

"There is one thing you should know about me," Ace said, drawing out her gun. From the corner of her eye, she watched as the man named Danielson stormed angrily in the direction of the gazebo, striding down a walkway lined on either side by lake water. "I do not lie."

Without looking away from Robin, Ace fired the gun. Danielson made a choked sound, disappearing into the lake with only a splash.

The people milling around the country club's pavilion had not yet noticed.

And Robin's face drained of colour as she said, "You're here because of Evan Powell."

"I was ordered to kill Mavis Griffon."

"But . . ." Robin's green eyes searched hers. "You haven't. You married her instead. Why?"

"Protect Isla," Ace said. "There will be others who may come for her. She is the heir to the American Mafia in Chicago. Aleksi wants her dead."

"Aleksi Morozova sent you?"

"Aleksi Morozova is my brother."

Robin closed her eyes. "Then you'll keep Mavis safe, won't you? You're her. You're the secret weapon, the assassin the Russians unleashed."

"You know a great deal," Ace said, narrowing her eyes. "How?"

Robin's smile was sharp. "That's my job."

Mavis and Isla were returning from the gazebo now, walking down the pathway. Isla stopped to point at the lake and say, "Look at the swans, Mommy!"

"You just killed a man," Robin said. "Right on my property."

"I will kill anyone who tries to hurt Mavis or Isla."

For a moment, the air between them thickened with tension―understanding. Robin said, "Good. Wherever you're going―don't tell me. I don't want to know. Just protect Mavis, or I will cut off your fingers, one by one, before breaking every single bone in your body."

Ace grinned. Finally―a language she understood fluently. Pain.

She leaned into Robin, just grazing her ear, and whispered, "Whatever you can do, know that I will do it worse."

And then Mavis and Isla had returned. There were tears tracking down Mavis's cheeks, red streaking her beautiful face.

"It is time to go," Ace said.