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There’s no way he could’ve missed that elephant stampede. My serial killer knows I’m coming. Whatever.
she’s just like me
“Considering you’re too underdressed to be a foreign agent coming to ransom me, though...” He gestures.
A FOREIGN AGENT?? sir you have a heightened sense of self worth
“Piper,” she says. Great. Of course she’s named after the guy in that fairy tale who steals all the kids with his magic flute and marches them away.
why is this his first thought??
“Serial killers and axe murderers aren’t the same,” I point out. “One is fueled by total psychosis; the other is a raging case of reckless—” I stop, pinching the bridge of my nose as she gapes at me. “I listen to a lot of crime podcasts when I’m traveling, okay?” I sigh. That’s hardly the full truth but we’re not getting into that.
??? what does that mean LOL
Most of her videos are focused on US travel. It looks like the Pacific Northwest is her favorite stomping ground. Also, birds. Lots of them. I’ve never seen anyone waste so much time in a pretty place filming some feathered dinosaur-knockoffs pecking at rotting trees or tapping at bugs in the grass. Still,
why is he so anti bird LMAO
“If you see them as opportunities, I doubt that’ll happen. But I also don’t know why people freak out so much over nasty reviews. I’ve bought books because of crappy reviews before!” I raise a brow. “What kind of books?” Her face glows red and she goes quiet. “Um, romance. Chick lit. Not the kinda stuff you’d be interested in—” “Smut then,” I say. “Erotica. Got it.”
shes just like me LMAO
Control yourself. You want to walk out of this with a glowing review, not her panties, bozo.
why can’t you do both LMAO
Malak Nouamani liked this
“Come to the hospital!” she manages. Shit. “Okay. Seattle Memorial?” I jostle the door until it pops open and practically flings me on the ground.
Grey Sloan memorial maybe?
“Every patient’s needs are different, Miss Renee, and so is their tolerance. As much as I wish this was an exact science, sometimes it takes several adjustments to determine what’s optimal.” The doctor folds her arms.
why is this doctor sassing you????
Everything is glass and gold and towers over the cityscape outside. Left goes to the observation deck I wonder if I should throw myself off of—or right to the Tsar of all grumpiness and my inevitable doom.
she’s just like me fr
“Right.” Keenan rolls his eyes with his usual annoying ability to read me like an open book. “I can’t believe I'm saying this, but... Bossman, you can’t openly flirt with her—or anyone—in a meeting.” “Flirt? I have no intention,” I snap. He coughs into his hand. “You just did. Everyone saw it.” My forehead feels like it could cook an egg. “...she started it,” I grind out.
all you can say is “she started it” LMAO bruh
Miss Sunshine, You’re the only person I’ve ever employed who knows I could make another billion dollars with my own X-rated calendar. Thank you for picturing me naked again.
this is an official email that will stay in the cloud forever LMAO
He studies me for a moment, his head cocked and jaw angled. “Are you wearing makeup? Shit.” I nod. “You didn’t need to. I like you better without it.” I’m almost glad for his dumb male honesty. It helps ground me with the reality of who I’m going out with.
ew who asked LMAO
I slide into her warmth with a guttural sound, welcoming that honey-slick sweetness. “Take my tongue while I fuck you.” I pull her lips open, swiping my tongue on hers.
when smut makes you burst out laughing
me laugh. I reach into the large pocket that’s glowing and rescue my phone. VANESSA appears on the screen. Huh? Oops. This isn’t my phone. But before I can put it down, her message scrolls across the screen. Brock, thank you so SO much. For everything. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. Wish you were here in NY. Leave it to a goddamn bazillionaire not to lock his screen, and who the hell is this Vanessa?
not the miscommunication
The next morning, I’m slightly more functional, but that doesn’t mean better. I turn my phone back on and ignore what looks like at least seven messages from the man I left behind. No time to read them now.
why don’t you communicate GIRLIE POP
“These people, you put them in prison?” she asks. I smile darkly. “Not quite. That’s where I met Fyodor. He wasn’t my driver then, but a man I hired with a rare skill set. He helped me find out where they met. I authorized him to stage a fire.” I watch her eyes light up with more shock.
he hired an assassin 😭😭
I come flying out and find her standing at the front door with—not Brock. There’s an elderly Japanese man, and next to him, the biggest shock of my life. A black-and-white penguin roughly waist high tilts his pointed beak up and looks at me with a soft squawk. “May he come in for a minute? Special delivery,” the man explains. “Mr. Winthrope flew us in from Kyoto to deliver a message for Miss Renee. I am Takishido’s owner.”
if a man doesn’t send me a penguin as an apology gift I don’t want it 😤
“Brock! He’s got a—” I yell out a warning, only to be cut off by the dark, bulky figure leaping in front of me. “Nyet,” a rough voice calls loudly, swinging a gun against Finch’s head. “One move, I pull the trigger. Hand it over.” Fyodor?
me: this is so boring I want it to be over—
an angry Soviet with a gun: 🧍♂️🔫
