John didn’t run, but he moved fast.

  The moment he stepped back into the crowded streets, the weight of the black case in his hands felt heavier than it should have.

  The drizzle had turned into a steady rain, blurring neon lights into distorted smears on the pavement. He kept his hood up, shoulders hunched, blending in with the restless figures moving through the city’s lower districts.

  He had a job to do.

  And he hated it.

  There were rules when it came to surviving in New Eden.

  The first was never attract attention.

  The second was never trust anyone.

  The third was the most important of all—

  If something seems too easy, it’s already a trap.

  And this?

  This was way too easy.

  John glanced at the case again. The black, unmarked container didn’t look dangerous, but he knew better. Cain’s people didn’t hand out errands for no reason.

  Just a delivery. That’s what Vance had said. No one gets hurt.

  John didn’t believe him.

  Vance could have picked anyone to run this job. There were plenty of desperate people who would have taken it without hesitation.

  So why him?

  That was the part that didn’t make sense.

  And John didn’t like things that didn’t make sense.

  The address Vance had given him led five blocks east, past the industrial sector, where half the buildings were condemned, and the other half were run by people who didn’t care what went on inside.

  John walked quickly, keeping his head down. The rain helped—most people weren’t paying attention, too busy avoiding puddles or hurrying for cover.

  By the time he reached the delivery point, midnight had come and gone.

  It was a small warehouse on the edge of the district. Abandoned. Quiet. Too quiet.

  John stopped just outside the door, instincts flaring.

  He didn’t like this.

  His fingers tightened around the case handle. This was a mistake.

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  He should have never agreed to this.

  But it was too late now.

  Taking a slow breath, he stepped inside.

  The interior was mostly empty, save for a few broken-down crates and a single flickering light overhead. The smell of damp concrete filled the air.

  A man stood in the center of the room, waiting.

  John had never seen him before.

  He was older, late forties maybe, dressed in a dark suit that didn’t quite match the surroundings. His expression was unreadable, but the sharpness in his eyes told John this wasn’t someone to underestimate.

  John held up the case. “This is yours?”

  The man didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he studied John for a long moment, as if trying to decide something.

  Then, finally—

  “Put it on the table.”

  John hesitated, but did as he was told.

  The man stepped forward, reaching for the case. His fingers brushed against the latches—

  And then he stopped.

  His gaze flicked to John. “You opened it.”

  John’s pulse spiked.

  “I didn’t,” he said immediately. Because he hadn’t.

  But the man just smiled, slow and knowing. “You thought about it.”

  John didn’t answer.

  The air in the room felt colder suddenly, like an invisible shift had taken place.

  John had seen enough people like this to recognize danger when he was standing in it.

  “Can I go now?” he asked, keeping his voice steady.

  The man considered him for a moment.

  Then, to John’s surprise, he nodded. “Yes. You may go.”

  John didn’t need to be told twice.

  He turned, forcing himself to walk at a normal pace. He could feel the man’s gaze on his back, watching him leave.

  He stepped out into the night, his heartbeat still too fast.

  John didn’t go back to his usual alley right away.

  Instead, he took a long, winding route through the district, making sure no one was following him.

  But even as he moved, the feeling wouldn’t leave him.

  Something was wrong.

  He had expected this to be some kind of drug run, stolen tech, or illegal shipment. That was the kind of thing Cain’s people usually dealt in.

  But this?

  This was something else.

  And whatever it was—John had just put himself in the middle of it.

  He had barely made it two blocks before he realized he wasn’t alone.

  A shadow moved on the rooftop above him.

  John didn’t stop walking. Didn’t react.

  But his mind raced.

  Who?

  Vance? No. If he wanted me dead, he wouldn’t be subtle.

  Someone from the warehouse? Maybe. But why follow me?

  John turned a corner, stepping into a side alley.

  The moment he did, a figure dropped down behind him.

  John spun, stepping back, hands instinctively raised.

  The figure straightened.

  And that’s when John froze.

  It wasn’t Vance. It wasn’t one of Cain’s enforcers.

  It was a girl.

  And not just any girl.

  John had seen her before.

  Even in the dim alley, she stood out.

  Tall, poised, with a presence that was impossible to ignore. She had long, jet-black hair, sleek and smooth despite the rain, and piercing gray-blue eyes that seemed to see right through him.

  She wasn’t dressed for the lower districts—her clothes were too clean, too precise—but she wore them like someone who didn’t care what others thought.

  She looked at John.

  Then she spoke.

  “You’re not what I expected.”

  John blinked. “Excuse me?”

  She tilted her head slightly, watching him with a mix of curiosity and calculation.

  “Vance sent you, didn’t he?”

  John’s mind snapped into focus.

  She knows Vance?

  His expression didn’t change, but inside, he was already reassessing everything.

  “Who are you?” he asked.

  She smirked. “Aria.”

  No last name. No explanation.

  Just Aria.

  And for some reason—John knew his life had just changed forever.