My Sister Hired a Hitman to Steal My Fortune — She Didn’t Know I Am a Highly Trained Assassin

Part 1

I survived ten years in an underground assassin boot camp.

My own father sent me there when I was just a child.

He told everyone I was disturbed and needed a special psychiatric facility.

In reality, he sold me to be a test subject for a lethal obedience toxin.

I spent my childhood learning how to kill, completely numb to the poison they fed us every week.

Yesterday, I finally broke free.

I infiltrated the main laboratory and stole the only sample of a miraculous recovery serum.

It was my only chance to cure the poison running through my veins.

I escaped the compound and managed to board a moving train heading for the city.

But the organization’s cleaners were right behind me.

They cornered me in the dining car between stations.

I took two of them down in a brutal fight, but I caught a deep blade to the ribs.

Bleeding and exhausted, I stumbled through the connecting doors into carriage eight.

That was when I saw Dan.

He was sitting alone in a wheelchair, pale and violently coughing up blood.

He looked like a man who had already accepted his own death.

But he wasn’t alone by accident.

Three men in dark suits were moving down the aisle toward him, drawing suppressed weapons.

His enemies had cornered him too.

I didn’t have time to think about the consequences.

I threw my last two throwing knives, eliminating his assassins before they could pull their triggers.

I collapsed into the seat across from him, losing too much blood to make it off the train alone.

I made a reckless decision right then and there.

I pulled the stolen miracle serum from my jacket.

I drank half to keep myself alive.

Then I fed the other half to the dying stranger in the wheelchair.

He didn’t even flinch when I tilted the vial past his pale lips.

“You’re wasting that on a dead man,” he whispered.

I wiped the blood from my chin and smirked.

“I just like your face,” I told him.

We managed to slip away together at the next station under the cover of darkness.

I disappeared into the night, thinking I would never see him again.

My handler, Brian, warned me to lay low and get out of the country.

But I was completely done running.

I went back to the massive Robinson family estate.

I wanted to look my father, Craig, in the eyes and show him I had survived his hell.

I walked through the grand double doors right in the middle of my sister Brenda’s lavish birthday party.

The entire ballroom went dead silent.

Brenda had always been the golden child, the perfect, obedient daughter who stayed behind.

She had taken my room, my inheritance, and even my former fiancé.

Now, she stood frozen on the marble staircase in her designer gown.

My father’s face turned white as a sheet when he saw me standing there.

“You’re supposed to be away for your specialized treatment,” he hissed, marching over to me.

I looked at him with absolute disgust.

“My treatment is officially over,” I replied.

They treated me like a rabid stray dog that had wandered into a pristine palace.

Brenda burst into dramatic, fake tears, loudly claiming my violent presence was triggering her anxiety.

She clung to her fiancé, playing the fragile victim for the wealthy guests.

My father immediately ordered the private security guards to throw me out into the street.

I didn’t fight back right then.

I let them think I was still the broken, helpless girl they had sent away.

I walked away quietly and rented a cheap, rundown motel room on the edge of town.

I needed to rest and let the stolen serum finish healing my stab wounds.

But around midnight, I heard the distinct click of my door lock turning.

A man stepped into the dark room holding a silenced pistol.

He wasn’t from the highly trained assassin organization.

He was a local amateur, sloppy, loud, and completely overconfident.

It took me exactly four seconds to disarm him, shatter his wrist, and pin him to the floor.

I pressed the barrel of his own gun hard against his temple.

“Who sent you?”

I asked quietly.

He started crying immediately, begging for his life.

He confessed that Brenda and her fiancé had paid him fifty thousand dollars to make sure I never woke up.

My own sister wanted me dead just to secure her total control over the family fortune.

She had absolutely no idea she had just hired a cheap street thug to kill a highly trained assassin.

I tied him to the heavy iron radiator and walked out into the freezing night.

I was going to burn the entire Robinson family legacy to the ground.

But as I stepped out of the dark alley, a heavily armored black SUV blocked my path.

The tinted rear window rolled down slowly.

It was Dan.

He wasn’t sitting in a wheelchair anymore.

The serum had worked perfectly, and the sickly pallor was gone from his face.

He looked at me with cold, calculating eyes.

“Get in the car,” he said smoothly.

I stared at him, my hand resting on the knife hidden in my jacket.

“Why should I?” I asked.

He unlocked the heavy armored door.

“Because your family is actively trying to kill you, the organization is hunting us both, and I know exactly how to destroy them all.”