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It was good to be back. Back to honest threats that could be carried out in the blink of an eye, back to wearing his blades in their proper sheaths. Back to being constantly alert and keeping his head down. Back to treating everyone as a potential enemy.
Back to the life he knew.
Rodin had a new room—not perfect, but serviceable, and just on the edges of Genna’s district. He’d eaten at Jimny’s, let it be known that he was available for the right job, listened to the rumours and gossip. He’d exercised, and he’d tired himself out each day so that he slept soundly.
Good to be back, then. But not perfect.
There was still the matter of p*****t for the contract on Leopold.
Rodin sat behind a desk, ready for a meeting. The office was one of Genna’s—she could hardly refuse his
