The room was quiet except for Viola's slow, steady breathing. She was sprawled across the sheets, the dim glow of the city sneaking through the blinds, half her body wrapped lazily in a thin cloth. Sleep clung to her until a sharp chime split the silence.
Her eyes flickered open, annoyed, confused. She dragged herself off the bed, moving toward the closet. From the back she pulled out a sleek black case and unlatched it. Inside sat a compact holo-pad. She carried it over to the table, tapped it, and a faint blue shimmer filled the air.
A figure formed—tall, armored, his presence heavy even through projection. The captain of the Spade Hounds.
Viola's brow furrowed. "Why the hell are you calling me? I told you—I'm out. I left the Syndicate."
The captain's face twisted for a moment. Rage threatened to break through, but he forced it down, his lips pulling into a mockery of calm. The disgust in his eyes was clear; pretending to be polite looked like it pained him.
