Darius's POV
"No more Jessica. No more Gerald. I'll deal with that bastard myself." I lower my voice, glancing around to make sure no one else can hear. "We can hire a hitman."
Zain and Allison both freeze mid-bite, their eyes snapping toward me. We're out at some cozy, dimly lit restaurant, supposed to be having a normal lunch, but I can't help it. I need to see how Zain's acting around her, all mushy and fake. There's something off about him, something crude ticking away behind those eyes, and I'm not about to let him pull anything stupid.
Zain leans back in his chair, fork hovering over his plate. "A hitman? Seriously? That's a terrible idea." He shakes his head, stabbing his steak and chewing with an almost violent indifference. "Spying is smarter. Always better. But damn, this steak's good."