doors of a quiet, neon-lit retro diner on 3rd Avenu

e back corner, the bright red vinyl seats offeri

with an order pad, snappin

ffe

nodde

ees. And a slic

gave a small, agreeable no

leaving them in a comfortable silence under

standard text-to-speech notes application, and slid

gray eyes lifting to meet hers with practiced hesi

t the edge of the phone, his gaze briefl

e. What's

his posture slightly hunched to em

screen toward

er eyes tracing the sharp, ari

around those Wall Street scumbags. Manhatt

of sadness and quiet admiration before showing her th

er chin on her palm, completely d

t easily annoy

onto the table with careless haste, splashing hot bla

his knuckles to pull his hand back from the scaldin

his thumb subtly tracing the faint callus on her inner

th ghosting over his ear as she grabbed a paper napk

aint gun oil filled his heightened sens

ge of the table tightening to a white-knuckle degree as he suppr

ngly unaffected though her heart rate w

ul. It

ly, smoothing down

he restroom. Don

her walk down the narrow hallw

ulnerable facade instantly melted away, replaced

pocket and pulled out a custom, h

s the keyboard with bl

g high-bandwidth connection, but his custom Apex root overri

p lieutenant, Sullivan Hayes: "Clean up The Obsidian. Liquidate

hin three seconds: "Understood,

door opened, his cold eyes instantly softening

lar bill onto the table bes

family is expecting m

up with wide, pleading gray eyes that tugg

genuine expression soft

ou stay out

ompletely unaware that the disabled man she had just