“I begged Astor to take me to Underworld Market.” Violet eyes narrow sharply. “I sincerely hope he said no,” he says coolly. “You’re as bad as Vargas,” I tell him with a roll of my eyes. “It was fabulous and chaotic. A riot of sounds, colors, and smells designed to sweep you away to an exotic world. Astor even told me about the hidden black market, but we didn’t go,” I add, rushing to reassure him. “The ice cream was particularly exceptional.”
