This isn’t a game. We don’t want mediocre employees who can keep the status quo. We want souls. We want to win. And you’ve spent most of your time here being mediocre.

Thatʹs a dangerous look,ʺ said Dimitri, giving me a brief glance before returning his eyes to the road. ʺWhat look?ʺ I asked innocently. ʺThe one that says you just got some idea.

So,” I said at last, staring at my hands. “How’s, uh, your car?” “I left it out on the street. Figured it’ll be fine there while I’m gone.

I don't suppose you offered to help?" "Sage," Adrian declared. "These hands don't do manual labor." He knocked another ball into a hole. "You want to play?" "What? With you?" "No, with Clarence." He sighed at my dumbfounded look. "Yes, of course with me.

Eugenie, my sweet, your outraged protests are adorable, but they only continue to slow us down. If you want me to help you, then let me. If you don't, then take me to one of those places where human women wear revealing clothing and quickly lose their virtue through alcohol.

I also have a feeling your mother’s going to have a very ugly conversation with me." – Dimitri

You got some cheap foreign labor to protect Lissa?