Hope. An emotion that always kept suckering me in, time after time, despite my supposed retirement from the assassin business. Hope. The one thing that always seemed to get me into more trouble than just killing people for money ever had. Ah, hope. Sometimes, I really hated it.

I know, I know. But I can always kill him later. This way, at least we get to humiliate him first.” Finn eyed me. “Sometimes I think you’re even more devious, twisted, and vicious than I am.” I grinned. “You only wish you could be as ruthless as me.” “Absolutely.

Finn regarded pesky little things like wedding bands, engagement rings, and jealous, hulking menfolk more as amusing challenges than immovable obstacles that could be hazardous to his health.

Oh, Finn isn’t an assassin,” I cut in. “He’s much, much worse. He’s a banker.

I'd be damned if I let him see the tears in my eyes.

The two men eyed each other. Assessing strengths. Looking for weaknesses. Measuring dicks once again

I hate to say this, but not everyone seems happy that you’re still alive,” Finn said, picking up on the glares coming my way. “You can’t please everyone,” I drawled. “And you know how much I hate to disappoint our dear friends in the underworld.