His face twists. Not with anger—worse. Withdisappointment.
“Oh please,” he murmurs. “Don’t be so dramatic.”
He closes the last few feet between us and leans against the kitchen counter, looking down at his own reflection in the steel surface like he’s bored.
“Voltar offered me the credits,” he says.
I blink.
“…What?”
“Voltar,” he repeats, inspecting his cuticles. “Your bulky, shouty boyfriend. Surprisingly clever, actually. Underneath all the testosterone and shoulder plates.”
I stare at him. “He… what? Paid you?”
Tugun smiles. “To start my own fashion line.”
My mouth falls open.
He continues, utterly unfazed. “Do youhaveany idea how hard it is to fund bespoke tailoring in this economy? Honestly, the Nine pay in blood and whispers. Otto thinks ‘bespoke’ means stretchy waistbands. It’s criminal. I’ve been sewing my own pieces for decades—hand-stitching, dear. With claws. That’s commitment.”
“You’re lying.”
“Ineverlie,” he says indignantly. “I omit, mislead, distract—never lie. There’s a difference.”
I take a shaky breath, trying to catch up.
“He bribed you…notto kill me.”
“Bribed?” He scoffs. “Heinvested. Fashion is an industry, darling. And Voltar—well. He gets me.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“It doesn’t have to. All it has to be is profitable.”
He steps closer again, too close, the scent of expensive cologne and lethal professionalism wrapping around me like smoke. His eyes narrow just slightly.
“I’m not going to kill you,” he says. “Not now.”
“That’s comforting.”
“But consider this…” He leans in until I can feel the heat radiating off his skin. “This is your warning, Sable Jackson. The Nine won’t stop. Otto is… petulant. And patient. He’ll send others. Eventually, someone without a sense of style.”
He straightens, brushing imaginary dust off his sleeve.
“Cherish the time you have,” he says softly. “The credits only delay the inevitable.”
I swallow. My mouth tastes like battery acid.
Tugun turns, graceful as always, and walks toward the window.
“Voltar’s instincts were right,” he says, not turning around. “You are worth protecting.”
And then?—
—he vanishes.
A blink of starlight, a puff of steam. Gone.
