Joy on the other hand watched from the side, her fists clenched, her jaw tight.
She wasn't jealous of Cassius's wives. Not like Carmela was. Her fury had a different source entirely.
It was the arrogance.
The sheer, insufferable arrogance of telling her that she would never be good enough.
That no matter how hard she tried, no matter what she did, she would never be able to accomplish her mission.
It was the worst possible thing he could have said because Joy was prideful. Arrogant.
Fiercely, stubbornly dedicated to her duties. She had never failed a mission. Never backed down from a challenge. Never accepted defeat.
And now this man this infuriating man was telling her that she would fail before she even began.
Not only was she furious at him, she was furious at herself. For being so utterly, pathetically useless when it mattered most.
Her anger built and built until she thought she might explode.
But then—
She looked at her hand.
