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“So why ask them?” she whispers. “What difference does it make?” “I need to know who I’m going to be fucking burying, babygirl.”
His death sentence has just been…delayed, while I find a tactful way of telling Giovani I’m going to be dismembering his nephew.
“I will move Heaven and burn down Hell to get you there.” Even if it means losing her. Because that’s the second shoe waiting to drop that I can’t bear to tell her: if she goes to Moscow, I can’t go with her, per my deal with Dimitri.
