Roll lies off it with easy grace. Pleasure a woman until she’s crying out the fake name I gave her. Sweet-talk, bullshite, con my targets into believing what I want them to believe—that I’m not a hitman on a mission to kill.
The reporter doesn’t stand a chance. She thinks I’m CIA. A fella in the middle of a black market uranium deal with secrets to reveal. A means to an end. She believes I’m helping her investigate a story, instead of using her to perpetuate my lies . . . playing her.
I’ve got to say, she’s persistent. An honest woman hell-bend on broadcasting the world’s ugly truths.
Problem is I work for a dangerous, underworld organization shrouded in secrecy.
Expose me, and even a smooth-talker like me won’t be able to save her.