[Doctor Gabriel]

Mr. Kite could tell she was thinking the word babe and that knowledge brought a scowl to his face. He’d worked with enough lowlifes and scumbags to get an idea of what went on inside their heads. Irritation building with every second spent with this woman, he plopped himself down on the curb.

He looked down at the intricate crimson crest emblazoned on his right hand.

I could do it.

One little Command Seal and I could make her treat me with even a hint of goddamn respect.

I could make her treat me, if not like her Master, at least like a fucking equal.

What’s one little absolute order compared to having to put up with the condescending aura seeping from every pore of this greasy cunt’s being for this entire ordeal?

He shot a bitter glance at his new partner in crime then sighed bitterly, took a swig from a golden flask hidden in his coat pocket, and lit another cigarette.

Bitch ain’t worth it. Although…

Mr. Kite turned back toward her with rather bored eyes, his typical mask of courtesy and charisma tucked away after obviously only making her impression of him worse.

“Would you mind cutting yourself for me?”