Page 104 of Dishonored

Her tone was cutting.

He didn’t miss it.

“Don’t be like that, now.”

“You’re being a bit of an asshole,” she countered.

“Force of habit,” he replied.

“Then, you get the bitch.”

Caesar tipped his head down. “That’s fair. I don’t get too much control, now, though. Be warned—you’re here, so it’s all on Angelo to make the calls from now on.”

“As long as I don’t die.”

“Working on keeping that from happening, yeah.”

Aria’s fingernails dug into the thin skin of his wrist, forcing Caesars gaze to dart quickly to meet hers. “Don’t work on it—make sure it happens.”

In a blink, he was closer.

All in her vision.

Crowding her.

Making it hard to breathe.

She liked it as much as she hated it.

His lips were a breath away from hers when he said, “It won’t happen, bella.”

“You’re distracting.”

“And you’re dangerous.”

Aria shrugged. “Fair trade, isn’t it?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

She reached up and pressed the pads of her fingers into the tense, furrowed line of his brow to smooth it out. “You’re angry. Why?”

“Because you have to stay here. In this mansion. At least, until Angelo says otherwise or chooses to move you to a new location.”

She blinked. “Okay.”

“No, not okay. I have to keep an eye on you—Angelo’s demands.”

Aria grinned wickedly. “That could be fun.”

She was asking for trouble.

Begging for it, really.

Caesar was a fun kind of trouble, though.

Caesar shook his head. “That means … you stay here, and I have to stay here. I don’t fucking like this house—I hate it, and the people inside it.”

There was something dark in his words.