TURNER THE TYRANT HAS MET HIS MATCH I was done for. Profoundly screwed. The issue, of course, was my assistant, Devereux. She was slowly but surely driving me crazy. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Hiring her was supposed to bring order to my life. Instead, she’d brought disorder. Chaos. Irritation. Malaise. Comfort. Exuberance. Delight. I was obsessed with her. Truly, irrevocably obsessed. She was stubborn. Standoffish. Painfully honest. Take no prisoners efficient. In summary, a termagant—much too young for me. And even I, oblivious bastard extraordinaire, was aware in some corner of my mind, of every well-laid plan I’d ever had slowly crashing down and exploding into dust. I was simply no match for Devereux Laurent.