Shark wasn't worried.
Nyra noticed it right away.
They sat on the floor of her apartment, backs against the couch, a shared ashtray between them. The window was cracked open just enough to let the night breathe. Outside, the Eastside hummed alive, loud, unapologetic.
Shark rolled another cigarette slowly, unbothered.
"So," he said, lighting it, "how's Europe?"
Nyra laughed. "Clean. Quiet. Creepy."
"That tracks."
She told him about Zurich the glass buildings, the silent trams, the way people looked through you instead of at you. She talked about ValeTech without names at first, then let Adrian slip in casually, like he didn't matter.
Shark listened without interrupting.
Then she smiled.
"And there was this guy at a lounge," she said. "Cute. Normal. We were just talking, laughing, nothing serious."
Shark raised an eyebrow. "Uh-huh."
"And guess who lost his mind from across the room?"
Shark leaned back, already amused. "Suit man."
"Suit man," she confirmed. "Marched over like he owned oxygen. 'We're leaving.'"
Shark burst out laughing.
Like really laughing.
He slapped his knee. "No way."
"I swear," Nyra said, laughing too. "I almost choked on my drink."
Shark shook his head. "That's not your type. That man would stress you out in a week."
"Two days," she corrected. "Max."
They laughed harder, the kind that loosened old knots. The kind that only came from shared history and knowing someone all the way through.
"He thinks control is attractive," Nyra said, still smiling. "That alone disqualifies him."
Shark nodded. "Exactly. Men like that confuse obedience with loyalty."
She glanced at him. "You ain't worried?"
"About him?" Shark scoffed. "Nah."
He took a drag, exhaled slowly. "I know your taste. And I know your hate."
That landed warm.
They sat in easy silence for a moment, smoke curling, laughter fading into comfort.
Then Shark's tone shifted.
Not sharp.
Just real.
"Eastside's changing," he said.
Nyra's smile faded.
"Talk to me."
"There's new movement," he continued. "Not loud yet. Different faces. Different supply lines. Someone testing patience."
Her shoulders straightened. "Threat level?"
"Not today," he said. "But soon."
Nyra nodded slowly. This was her world. The one that never slept quietly.
"And you?" she asked. "You good?"
Shark met her eyes. "Always. Long as you don't disappear again without warning."
"I won't," she said. "I promise."
He believed her.
That mattered.
Later that night, after Shark left, Nyra lay on her bed staring at the ceiling.
Zurich felt far away.
So did Adrian.
But the Eastside?
It was close. Loud. Watching.
And whatever was coming next wouldn't care about suits or boardrooms.
It would demand decisions.