The Eastside never slept.
Even at night, it breathed ,engines humming, laughter cracking, sirens wailing somewhere far enough to ignore. Nyra moved through it like muscle memory, hood up, steps steady. This place had raised her sharper than any classroom ever could.
Shark waited where he always did outside the warehouse with the busted light and perfect sightline. Torry controlled the city, Shark controlled the streets.
"Sit," he said.
Nyra leaned against the hood of a parked car, cigarette lit, smoke curling into the dark. She measured every word.
"You're late," Shark said.
"I'm busy," she replied evenly.
He studied her. Clothes cleaner. Confidence quieter, heavier. Not street-flashy. Worse.
"You got people watching you," he said. "Cars I don't know. Eyes that don't blink."
"Interns gossip," Nyra said flatly. "Suits stare."
"That's not what I'm talking about."
Shark stepped closer. Close enough that the Eastside remembered him.
"You don't bring strangers here," he continued. "You don't get sloppy. You don't forget who pays for your freedom."
Nyra flicked ash to the ground. "I know the rules."
"You don't speak like that," Shark said quietly, tone deadly. "Anyone else would be bleeding right now."
Her jaw tightened, but she held his gaze. "I know," she replied calmly.
For a moment, the tension cracked like a loaded gun in the night. Shark exhaled smoke, letting it drift between them.
"This is the last time I let emotion slide," he said. "Because I like you."
Nyra nodded once. She didn't smile. Gratitude was weakness on the Eastside.
"You forget your streets, you die. You forget your brains, you die. You forget your limits, you die."
"I won't forget," she said softly, every word measured.
Shark studied her. There was fire in her eyes, but also control. For now, she survived by knowing when to push and when to hold.
"Eastside rules still apply," he reminded her. "Don't cross me. Don't expose us. Don't pretend this never happened."
Nyra exhaled, letting the smoke swirl around her. "I won't."
As she walked away, her phone buzzed.
Elias: You okay? You left fast today.
She typed back without stopping.
Nyra: Yeah. Just handling old ghosts.
Across the city, Adrian stood in his office, reviewing footage from security cameras. Pausing. Rewinding. Watching Nyra move through halls like she owned the space without asking permission.
"She doesn't bend," he murmured.
That intrigued him.
Back on the Eastside, Shark watched Nyra disappear into the dark, unease settling into his bones.
Because people who learned how to walk away and survive?
They were the most dangerous kind.