“But what Iamnow… that’s complicated.”
She snorts. “Of course it is.”
“Kai,” I say, gently.
She sighs, but walks over. Sits beside me. Not close. Not far.
Just enough.
“I kept the family alive when I got out,” I begin. “Barely. Riehl tried to take the docks. The syndicate from the Spiral was bleeding our freighters dry. I came home to a broken empire and ghosts in every hallway.”
“And you rebuilt it?”
“I’mrebuildingit,” I correct. “But not the way my father would’ve wanted.”
She gives me a sideways look. “How wouldyouwant it?”
I tilt my head toward the sky. The stars are dim from all the city haze, but one or two poke through. Silent. Distant. Untouchable.
“I want a business that doesn’t bury people.”
She blinks.
“Come again?”
“I’m shifting our assets,” I say. “Pulling us out of trafficking. Cutting ties with arms smuggling. Redirecting into tech infrastructure, education, and community defense.”
“Community defense.That’s a very elegant euphemism.”
“It’s real,” I say. “We’ve started grants. For alien orphanages. Refugee pods. Trauma therapy for war-born kids. We’re building shelters on moons where the Alliance won’t even send drones.”
She stares at me.
“And the credits just magically reassign themselves?”
I smile. It’s bitter.
“No. It’s slow. Messy. People don’t like change. Especially when that change means fewer zeroes in their cut.”
She leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees. Her voice drops.
“Jav… you’re a mob prince trying to turn into a philanthropist. That’s not redemption. That’s schizophrenia.”
I bark out a laugh.
She doesn’t.
I run a hand over my horns. The edges are duller now. Less flash. More function.
“I’m not looking for redemption, Kai.”
“Oh no?”
“No. I don’t need to beforgiven.”
She turns toward me, eyes blazing.
“Then what the helldoyou want?”
