Yara Own

“You’re a blackmailer—”
“I broker information.”
“A con artist—”
“I create opportunity.”
“A bawd and a murderer—”
“I don’t run whores, and I kill for a cause.”
“And what cause is that?”
“Same as yours, merch. Profit.”
“How do you get your information, Mister Brekker?”
“You might say I’m a lockpick.”
“You must be a very gifted one.”
“I am indeed.” Kaz leaned back slightly. “You see, every man is a safe, a vault of secrets and longings. Now, there are those who take the brute’s way, but I prefer a gentler approach—the right pressure applied at the right moment, in the right place. It’s a delicate thing.
“Do you always speak in metaphors, Mister Brekker?”
Kaz smiled. “It’s not a metaphor.”
He was out of his chair before his chains hit the ground.”
― Leigh Bardugo, Six of Crows

“After a few minutes, he decided that kissing wasn't that hard, really, although it certainly wasn't everything it was cracked up to be . . . He tried closing his eyes but it made him uncomfortable, like someone was going to sneak up behind him and plunge a knife into his back.”
― Kristen Roupenian, You Know You Want This: Cat Person and Other Stories