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Kaz Brekker didn’t need a reason.
“I’m a businessman,” he’d told her. “No more, no less.” “You’re a thief, Kaz.” “Isn’t that what I just said?”
“Yes, I know, then a tree tells you the secret handshake.”
“Alive? I’m not big on killing unconscious men.” “We could wake them up.”
“The life you live, the hate you feel—it’s poison. I can drink it no longer.”

