–Logan–
I was cursing at Livana while stacking dead bodies like oversized, very uncooperative furniture. The air reeked of gunpowder, iron, and burnt carpet. My boots squelched faintly with every step.
I exhaled, frustrated—not because of the mess, but because my perfectly timed plan to propose to Jane and finally marry her had once again been hijacked by a stupid mission.
I never complained about whatever they threw at me. I mean, I'm Sparrow. Livana's henchman. Professional killer. Walking disaster.
But this time?
It really annoyed me.
I paused and stared at the pile of corpses I'd just slaughtered. They deserved it anyway. Tried to kill our agents. Stupid people of the world.
Sure, we're in the underworld. Dirty business. Bloody business.
But a lot of people benefit from us.
"I swear, I'll resign," I muttered.
Livana laughed in my earpiece.
"Hey, you can't resign. It's in your contract, dumbass," she said. "Don't worry. I'll pay for your wedding."
