Steven's POV
"All done, happy now?!" I groaned, falling into the couch with a sigh of frustration.
"Not really," she responded nonchalantly, without even looking up. "I need water."
I blinked incredulously. "What?!"
She looked up and gave me an innocent shrug. "Well, it is your fault. You brought me food, but not drink, and the jug is empty."
I leaned back and pinched the bridge of my nose. “So now it’s my fault? You’re blaming me while I’m solving your problems for you?"
She smiled slyly. "Only because we made a deal. I save your company’s image, and you spare Maya’s life."
"You seriously think I brought you food because of that deal?" I shot back. "Don’t flatter yourself. Maya sent assassins after you, and I hate her just as much as you do."
"Then why don’t you want her dead?"
Her face softened, and for a moment, she almost looked vulnerable. "It’s not that I don’t want her dead. I just don’t want you to be the one to kill her. I hate it when you kill people, Steven. It changes you—
