Shark didn't ask questions loudly.
He leaned against the brick wall outside the Eastside diner, cigarette burning slow between his fingers, eyes tracking the street like it owed him money. He'd seen the car last night. Clean. Too clean for this side of town.
And Nyra didn't ride with strangers.
"She got a new friend?" one of his boys asked from behind him.
Shark exhaled smoke. "Nyra don't do 'friends.'"
Not like that.
Inside the diner, Nyra slid into a booth, backpack at her feet, phone face-down on the table. Same waitress. Same cracked vinyl seats. Same coffee that tasted like survival.
She liked things predictable.
Across the room, chatter buzzed Eastside slay queens crowded into a corner booth, voices sharp with jealousy and curiosity.
"That's her," one girl whispered. "The smoker."
"She thinks she's better than everyone."
"I heard she hacked the system."
Nyra ignored them. Typical Eastside shit, she thought. Fuckin' typical.Stirring her coffee slowly.
They always talked.
What they didn't know was that discipline came from hunger. From nights when failure wasn't theoretical it meant lights off, doors locked and people angry.
Shark stepped inside, the room adjusting to him instinctively. Chairs shifted. Voices lowered.
He slid into the booth across from Nyra, studying her like a map.
"New ride," he said casually.
She met his eyes. Calm. "Intern perks."
He smiled without warmth. "Interns don't come with tinted windows."
Nyra took a sip of coffee. "You checking my transport now?"
"Checking my investments."
That word always made her jaw tighten.
"I'm not staying here forever," she said flatly.
"I know," Shark replied. "That's why I let you move."
Outside, Elias's car passed the diner slowly, unseen by Shark this time , but Nyra noticed.
Two worlds. Still separate.
For now.
Back at ValeTech, Adrian watched Nyra through glass walls and reflections. He told himself it was professional curiosity.
He told himself wrong.
She worked like someone with nothing to lose. That unsettled him more than arrogance ever could. People like Nyra didn't bend they broke systems instead.
"She's dangerous," an executive murmured beside him.
Adrian didn't look away. "No," he said quietly. "She's disruptive."
And disruption was either crushed…
Or controlled.
Nyra stood later that night on the fire escape outside her apartment, cigarette glowing, Lana Del Rey humming softly in her headphones.
She closed her eyes.
The streets below.
The suits above.
Both watching.
And for the first time, Nyra realized
Running two worlds was easy.
Keeping them from colliding?
That was going to be the real game.