AGAIN.
“No, I’m handling it,” he said. “Apparently, the killer thinks she’s clever. She’s been slinking around like the two-faced bitch she is.”
Sasha laughed.
“Oh, this one sounds personal. Someone pissed you off. This should be fun.”
Oh, it was going to be something.
That was for damn sure.
Sliding the file over to her, he got up and went and closed his office door. Then, he leaned against it so there was no way out unless she was crashing through the glass and taking a leap to her death.
The woman was a coward, so she’d never do that.
He hoped.
No, he wanted her to suffer for a very long time.
As she opened the file, he knew the second she realized the jig was up.
She looked up and stared straight ahead.
“It seems that the two-faced bitch we’re chasing likes to play name games,” he stated. “Right, Daphne? Or do you want to play a little longer with me, and go by Sasha?”
Her body was ramrod stiff.
Well, he wasn’t done.
Not.
Even.
Close.
“Not only does she like to play games, like falsifying autopsies to help her mob husband, but she also likes reporting to Gabe on everyone around her. So, she’s a filthy, dirty snitch.”
She closed her eyes.
This was bad, and she knew it.
“You burned us,” he stated. “You literally went to Gabe and told him about Ethan and Gene. You’re his fucking spy, andyou turned on two people who have never been mean to you. They were your friends.”
That told her one thing.
If Greyson knew, they knew too.
Without a word, at first, she got up.
“I need to go.”
Oh, fuck no, she didn’t. As far as he was concerned, this wasn’t over.
Not.
Even.
Close.
