Dos’ Point of View
Fuck.
The moment Mr. Cleverio walked away, it felt like gravity suddenly doubled. My knees nearly buckled, my breath caught in my throat—and for the first time in a long time, I felt cornered. Not by bullets. Not by some crime boss.
By her.
June.
Right beside me.
Looking at me.
And I knew—I knew—she heard him call me Paul.
Her brows were slightly furrowed, lips parted in subtle confusion. I could practically see the storm brewing behind her eyes.
Shit. This is bad.
This is really f*****g bad.
And of course, Daniel, the smug bastard, was grinning like he just won the lottery.
“So, you’re June,” Daniel said, voice light and casual, like he wasn’t dangling a live grenade in front of me. “Dos talks about you all the time.”
I swear, if I had a knife in my hand, I
