By morning, my name is a weapon.
It blinks across screens in airports, boardrooms, bedrooms where people wake with phones already in hand. ADRIAN CROSS EXPOSED. BILLIONAIRE CEO REVEALED AS ROGUE. UNDerground Racing Kingpin. Syndicate Ties?
They never ask if it’s true.
They only ask how much blood it will cost.
I watch it all from the passenger seat of a moving car, city sliding past in winter blur, Luna driving with both hands tight on the wheel. Snow needles the windshield. The heater hums. The radio is dead—static only—because I smashed it when the first alert came through.
I don’t deserve sound.
I deserve consequence.
“They froze your accounts,” Luna says softly, eyes forward. “All of them.”
“I know.”
“And Cross Tech?”
“Board emergency session in twenty minutes. I won’t be inv
