“Do you have any idea how hard it was to find someone willing to kill you two? I spent months siphoning money from Prism. I plotted out every fucking detail, right down to how Jessica would spend her time lounging by the pool—or better yet, on her knees, treating me like a fucking king.” Even with my hands still wrapped around his throat, he managed to turn his head to look at his wife. No, fuck that. My woman. “Your life insurance policy was going to allow us the life we both deserved. Half a million fucking dollars wasted on Steven Barton, and in the end, she was the only one who died.” He
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Fuck you motherfucker
