Page 58 of Dirty Game
"Handling things," Jensen says. "He'll meet us there."
Handling things.
Such a clean phrase for what's probably happening. Blood and violence, broken bones and burned buildings.
The Corsinis touched what's his—put a price on my head—and now they'll pay for it.
Six weeks ago, that would have terrified me.
Now, it makes me feel protected. Valued. Worth burning down the world for.
My phone buzzes.
A text from an unknown number:
You can't replace me. He'll destroy you like he destroyed me. Get out while you can.
- S
I deleted it without responding.
She's wrong.
I'm not trying to replace her.
I'm not trying to be anything but myself—Rosalynn Lombardi, who's learning to fight back, who belongs to Varrick Bane by her own free will instead of the transaction my family made.
The girl who's going to seduce the most dangerous man in Vancouver.
And mean it.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Varrick
The city’s not awake yet, but I am.
Five hours after dawn and my hands are already stained.
The fucking Kastrovs hijacked a shipment, and we are the grim reapers reclaiming what’s rightfully ours.
Not to mention, the Corsini family is causing their own mess.
What kind of luck do I have that two families are attacking me? I guess it doesn’t matter.
They won’t live out another day.
The car ride is silent, my men bracing for impact in the backseat, eyes fixed forward, weapons cradled like infants.
I drive, because I trust my own hands more than theirs.
We roll up on the warehouse, a rust-caked bunker on the south dock.
Kastrov colors, but not enough of them: someone’s trying to be discreet.
There’s a single guard at the side door, slouched in a parka, half-asleep, half-dead.
He’s the first to go.
