The mission is supposed to be easy. Mika and his gang of real-estate crooks only have to infiltrate a high-rise building and steal secret codes for a client. But the building is the ZENITH, the most fortified residential tower around, the codes are...
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The smoke wafted in Mika's periphery, covering his mother's face before he grew tired of it. The urge to walk away from this meeting had never been this strong. But for his crew's sake, he must. If it wasn't for Andra Monaldi promising to never make the ZENITH case public, Mika would have ran back to HQ with his stash of Ida Widdman's money, living a life of luxury like the mother he no longer knew.
"Put that away before you kill yourself," Andra clicked her tongue and waved her hand in front of her nose to swat the smoke away from her system. "And before you take me with you."
Mika shrugged and took a long drag. The bitter taste burned down his sinuses, but he welcomed it. He's used to burning, anyway. "Don't be so dramatic," he said. "It's just a little smoke."
Andra's lips curved down into a thin line. "You've been blasting me in the face for half an hour," she said. "That's more than enough smoke."
"I'm not the one who dragged my ass out here," he answered, his tone sharp. "In this heat."
His mother, if she still daydreamed about him calling her that once more, crossed her arms over her elaborate business suit. Sitting inside the cramped space of an outdoor cafe probably didn't sit well with her. No. She's way above doing such normie things.
"This is the only place we can talk without being eavesdropped on," Andra said. "I think you know exactly what I'm talking about."
Oh, he did. Didn't mean he'd indulge her his thoughts though. Instead, he smoothed the last huff of the zooroo and flicked it to the ground. His boot delivered the final judgment, smearing ash and embers against the sparkling pavement. Andra must have winced, along with the flinch she delivered, making her chair squeak.
She cleared her throat, relief sagging down her shoulders in the absence of the zooroo's smoke. What the hell was everyone's problem with it? "I have questions. And pleas," she said, adjusting the wide-brimmed hat on her head to cover the impromptu style Mika gave her. "Let's start with what happened in the penthouse. In my office."
"That," Mika scratched his chin and pretended to think, to recall the finer details of the things that whizzed across his mind. He didn't need to. It's as clear as day—how the bullet from his pistol sailed in silence across the air, how it snipped a chunk out of Andra's hair, and how it drilled into Janos Kairon's forehead. For all his yakking, the prick went down without a squeak.
Mika inclined his head in Andra's direction. "What about it?"
"You killed a man," she pointed out as if it's something he missed.
"Yeah, so?" he said, his fingers itching to light another zooroo. Unfortunately, he was running low and still had to drop by the nearby store for a new box. "He was about to gut you like a fish. I'd appreciate a little more gratitude than that."
Andra scoffed. "Why did you let me live, then?" she asked. "If you're that cross with me, you shouldn't have."
He stuck a lip out. Saying he did it because she's his mother sounded like utter bullshit coming from his mouth, so he said, "You have something I want," he said. "The code."
