His throat bobs against the knife as he swallows, yet he’s completely calm. “I’m not your pawn anymore,” I inform him. “Your little blackmail bullshit is over.” A smirk curls his lips. “Okay.” He looks down at the knife. “Is that all? Because I’m tired.” Goddammit. Even when I’m the one holding a knife to his throat, he’s still the one in control.
