While the estate was settling into a fragile, hard-won peace, a very different kind of energy was vibrating across the city in Zen's apartment. Zen sat on his balcony, the cool night air doing nothing to soothe the frantic spinning of his mind. He couldn't stop replaying the conversation he'd had with Mild in the hospital locker room.
Zen wasn't a man who accepted defeat easily. To him, Mild wasn't just an employee or a crush; he was a symbol of everything pure and dedicated that Arm didn't deserve.
He's giving him a chance? Zen thought, his grip tightening around a glass of scotch. He's giving a man who chained him like a dog a second chance?
