Her eyes flash with anguish and frustration. She’s still looking for closure. I can see it in the way she’s looking at me and sneaking glances towards Jessa, as if even now, there’s a chance for her to make this end the way she wants it to.
She’s wrong. This ends only one way: mine.
“You faked your death to try turning the tide against me,” I say. “But as it so happens, your father was the only one who cared enough to hold me accountable. The rest of the underworld didn’t give a shit.”
“Now?” I ask, pulling my gun out and raising it to her face. “Most of the underworld still believes you’re dead, remember? They won’t ever know otherwise.”
Her confidence is starting to wane. She’s looking nervous now. Terrified, really. I know Marina. I smell her fear.
Panic rising, she turns to Yulian
