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He gave me his word. That means something to a man like Donovan Caine. Yeah, it means you'll realize he's an exceptionally good liar when you're clutching your intestines and choking on your own blood on his living room floor.
Jennifer Estep
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Jennifer Estep
Age: 24
Born: 2000
Born: January 1
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Donovan
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I know that look. What are you up to, Gwen? What makes you think I'm up to something? The Valkyrie snorted. You're breathing, aren't you?
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I will destroy you. No matter how long it takes, no matter what it costs me. I won’t sleep, I won’t eat. I won’t do anything but plot your downfall. I will mow down your men like they’re weeds. I’ll kill so many of them so viciously, so brutally, so horribly that no one will dare to work for you. And sooner or later, I’ll get you too.
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Jasmine smirke at the weapon in my hand. That little toothpick won't save you, Gypsy. Touthpick? Vic muttered in an indignant voice. “Did she just call me a bleeding toothpick? Kill her! Kill her now!
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I'm crazy about you, Spartan.
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What did you expect? That he'd send you flowers and write you bad poetry? That dead Nemean prowler is pretty much as close to a stuffed animal as you're ever going to get from a Spartan like Logan Quinn.
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Oh yes. You’ve caught me. I confess. My sole purpose in life is to gleefully, willfully, maniacally destroy all of your precious chrome babies.
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Really, Gin, did you have to ruin my suit?” he said. “This was a Fiona Fine original.
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That was my favorite dagger. She had a favorite dagger? Seriously? And she thought that I was a freak.
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They’d played “Sweet Home, Alabama” so many times I wanted to crash the party, kill the radio, and knife whoever was selecting the music.
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Now, back to my vacation idea.” Finn grinned, showing off his perfect white teeth. “Just think about it. You, Owen, me, and Bria, all happily ensconced in a swanky hotel by a beautiful beach. Bria in a bikini. You and Owen doing your own thing, Bria in a bikini. Did I mention Bria in a bikini?
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Have I ever told you how scary it is that you think of heels in terms of their possible shiv potential?
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You're just jealous. Hardly. Been there, done you. Adequate, but unremarkable.
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Etiquette? What kind of etiquette was there in someone trying to murder me?
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I might be an assassin, but never let it be said I wasn't as gracious a hostess as the next gal.
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Easy was for people too weak to suck it up and do what needed to be done. And I wasn’t weak. Not anymore.
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It didn't take long for the anger to put the happiness in a headlock.
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My heart lifted, and a matching grin curved my lips. He wanted to see me again. Maybe he really did like me after all. I felt like doing a happy dance, but of course, I was way too cool for that. I'd at least wait until I got back to my hotel room, alone, where no one would see.
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The two men stared at each other. Assumptions were made, judgments rendered, dicks measured.
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But I'd much rather face a dozen assassins like LaFleur any night than deal with something as tricky, convoluted, and fragile as my feelings.
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I'd be damned if I let him see the tears in my eyes.
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