Kenji rolled his eyes so hard I’m surprised they didn’t fall out of his head. “This is exactly what I’m talking about, Dad. She doesn’t understand how business works. You can’t let personal feelings interfere with?—”
“These aren’t personal feelings,” I snapped. “This is basic ethics. Wed be lying to people. Luring them into a trap.”
My father’s expression hardened. “The decision is made. We’re taking the account.”
So, I made a decision of my own.
I leaked Venko’s internal labor reports to a journalist friend. Names were redacted, but there was enough detail to spark an investigation. Within two weeks, Venko was dealing with a PRnightmare. They pulled out of negotiations with us, claiming we had a “security breach” they couldn’t overlook.
My father knew it was me. I didn’t even try to hide it.
The screaming match that followed was epic. Kenji stood behind our father with this smug little smile on his face, finally getting everything he’d ever wanted. I was fired on the spot. Told to clean out my desk. Informed that I was no longer welcome at Sunday dinners or holiday gatherings or anywhere else the Sato family might be present.
My father’s last words to me were: “You’re no daughter of mine.”
He hasn’t taken my calls since. Kenji blocked me on everything. My aunt sent me a message saying she was “so sorry” but she “couldn’t get involved.”
And just like that, I went from heir apparent to family pariah.
Was it worth it? I still don’t know. The journalist’s story ran, and Venko faced some fines, made some promises to reform. Whether anything actually changed for those workers, I have no idea. But I couldn’t have lived with myself if I’d stayed silent. I couldn’t have looked in the mirror every morning knowing I’d helped trap desperate people in that system.
So here I am, jobless and estranged from my entire family. Staying in my best friend’s guest suite on a remote mining planet, pretending I’m on vacation when really, I’m just... hiding. Trying to figure out who the hell I am and what I’m going to do next. I’m genuinely thrilled for Leah, my friend who is happily settled on this outpost with a job and family. I am. But I admit I’m also a little jealous.
I force a smile and shake off the self-pity. Tonight isn’t about my family drama, it’s about reconnecting with my best friend and pretending, for one evening, that I belong somewhere too.
“Come on,” she bumps against my shoulder, grabs my hand and pulls me along. “We finally have a moment alone. Let’s get this party started.”
Chapter Two
Naomi
Isnort and nod in agreement, then eagerly move behind Leah through the crowd.
We reach the open bar and Leah orders for both of us. “Two Flaming Fire Ales, please.”
The bartender slides over two mugs that are—I kid you not—literally on fire. Actual flames dance on the surface of the liquid.
“Um.” I stare at the fire. “Is that safe?”
“Totally safe,” Leah grins. “You just have to blow it out before you drink it. Obviously.”
“Obviously,” I repeat, still staring at the flames.
Two extremely tall Xylan females appear beside us, both dressed as shredded pink flowers with layers of puffy fabric, and both already unmasked. They’re giggling and clearly a few drinks in. “Ohhh, is that a human?” one of them coos, leaning closer to examine me. “She’s so tiny. Look at her little hands.”
I glance down at my hands. They’re... normal human hands?
“I love humans,” the other one sighs dreamily. “You’re all so squishy and adorable. Like the cutest baby animals, ever.”
“Thank you?” I manage.
Leah laughs and the two females help her blow out the flames on both mugs with exaggerated puffs of breath, cheering when the fire extinguishes.
“Actually,” I push my mug back toward the bartender, “what’s your most popular drink? Something that’s... not on fire?”
The bartender’s eyes crinkle with amusement behind his mask. “Ah. Something gentler for the small human?”
“Something that won’t burn my face off, yes.”
