Harold's POV
I flashed a fierce, devilish grin before it softened. "I believe so."
My car moved forward without incident. No more ambushes seemed to be waiting.
"Hmph, they got lucky," Phoebe scoffed. Without restraint, we would've eliminated every last assassin.
"Relax. They're our messengers now, so their bosses will learn this approach won't work," I told her.
I reached into my pocket and pulled out a chocolate bar, offering it to my displeased wife as consolation.
Phoebe grabbed the chocolate, tore off the wrapper quickly, and snapped it in two. She devoured half and pressed the other piece against my lips. "Open wide, darling. Don't sulk. They wanted to rile us up, and we can't let them win."
I hummed my agreement, parted my lips, and bit down on the chocolate. Sweet richness flooded my mouth and warmed my chest.
"Now it's our move." Phoebe crunched her chocolate while fishing out her phone, her fingers dancing across the screen.
