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

“What do you think?” I asked. “Is it too much?” Finn tilted his head and gave me a critical once-over. “You’re dressed up as an ice queen dominatrix. I don’t think there is such a thing as too much.”

“I pulled the trigger twice, cutting off his protests, and Finn joined my lover on the floor.”

“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.”

“You do realize that the cost of that bracelet is within spitting distance of my going rate as an assassin, right?” “You mean your going rate back when you were actually killing people for money,” Finn said. “Or as I like to call them— the good ole days.”

“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.”

“What are you smiling at?’ - ‘Oh, nothing much. Just my hero”