Vivienne Cross peeled open the foil seal on the nutrition pack, moving at her usual unhurried, almost elegant pace.
She took a small sip, then let out a light chuckle. "Tastes familiar."
She didn't elaborate. Instead, she slowly sipped at the bland, chalky liquid like it was fine wine.
The hook was set. Now let's see if the little Guide bites.
Sure enough, Leo Vaughn, perpetually irritable and fidgeting, glanced at her. "Familiar? You don't look like someone who's ever had to drink this crap."
Bingo.
Got him.
To anyone else, Vivienne looked polished, put-together — not a hair out of place. A woman who'd clearly never lacked money or options.
So why the hell would she say a low-grade nutrition pack tasted "familiar"? Leo, curious despite himself, pictured it:
A childhood in a cramped, broken-down apartment.
A sickly brother.
Maybe a tragic rags-to-riches backstory ?
And, well…
He wasn't wrong. What's eating soft meals off rich lovers if not a form of entrepreneurship?
Vivienne thought dryly. If she could, she'd flip Leo upside down, shake out the star coins that had been stolen by the pirates, and then shout loudly, "Give my money back!" In this way, there would be one more rich, gorgeous, and gloriously single woman in the world who is happy.
But alas, life wasn't that kind.
She gave him a smile, voice smooth as silk: "Guess I should thank Lady Luck. She let me escape the days of drinking low-quality nutritional supplements while doing business." She'd once read a line in a trashy romance novel:
There are three things a person can't hide — a cough, poverty, and love.
And poverty? That one was loud as hell.
There's simply no way to hide the fact of being poor, and pretending to be wealthy by overspending makes her so anxious that her temples throb.
So, she'd rewritten the script —
not poor but fallen from grace.
A girl with ambition and bad luck.
The kind of story people liked.
The idea of being dirt poor for years on end just isn't appealing. She can't attract a sugar boy or live off someone else with her genuinely poor persona.....
She gave him a careless shrug. "Anyway, starting over's not so bad."
Leo had already been more curious than he should be about a Sentinel like Vivienne — and now that she was technically his "prisoner," no real threat to him, he let himself relax a little as he said, "So, what now? All your money's gone. You're property of Polaris. That doesn't scare you?"
Of course it does.
That's why she was working so hard to latch onto this particular Guide.
Easy on the eyes, easy to manipulate.
The best kind.
After getting snatched by pirates, Vivienne's instincts had kicked in fast —
Leo Vaughn, she decided, was the slick little fox in a den full of wolves. Sure, he was a predator too, but compared to that rabid mutt Anthony, Leo almost seemed… civil.
She let out a soft, helpless sigh, her voice light but edged with irony: "Given where I've ended up, what's the point in worrying? Not like you're about to set me free… are you?"
Leo thought about it for a beat. Yeah… Fair point.
Vivienne gave a light laugh, the kind that tasted a little bitter. "And… truth be told, I'd always planned on going to Crescent Bay someday. Just didn't expect I'd be arriving as cargo." She glanced at Leo, voice lilting with wry humor. "Maybe Polaris will give me a shot — let me earn my keep and pay off this little detour."
Crescent Bay — The largest black market in the Polaris sector, a sprawling hub wedged between Imperial territory and lawless space.
A pirate's playground.
A criminal's paradise.
And absolutely no place for decent people.
Leo's eyes narrowed. "What's a people like you want in Crescent Bay?"
Vivienne didn't hesitate long. Just two seconds of careful calculation, then she answered quietly: "Looking for someone."
"Looking for someone?" Leo echoed, his brow lifting slightly.
Vivienne nodded, her gaze softening, almost wistful. She met his eyes, voice calm, almost too casual — as if she were speaking about something long past, but still heavy on her heart.
Some things were better told to as many people as possible. The more who knew, the better the chances. And besides, if she waited too long, Leo Vaughn might lose interest and walk away.
So she leaned in, voice smooth as silk, tinged with something quieter, something almost vulnerable. "My brother. Ten years ago, he awakened as a Guide. The local gangs grabbed him. He disappeared after that."
Her lips curled into a faint, self-deprecating smile. "I've been looking for him ever since." She paused for a beat, then added softly, "Recently, I heard he might be in Crescent Bay."
Leo looked at her. When she mentioned her brother, her eyes softened with affection and longing, which was completely different from the intense and complicated relationship he had with Jasper.
Vivienne's brother must be the frail young boy in her memory.
He broke the moment with cold logic. "Where'd you hear that?
It's probably bullshit. You think you're gonna find him after all this time?"
"I know the odds aren't great." Vivienne's smile was faint, almost self-mocking. "But even a sliver of hope is better than nothing." She added, "I paid good money for the information. From a gang lieutenant who'd long since cleaned up his act."
Leo arched a brow. "If the lead's that old, why didn't you chase it down sooner?"
"The clues were only found a couple of years ago." Vivienne's gaze dimmed. "My mother was sick. I couldn't leave her."
Leo frowned."Your father?"
"My father disappeared not long after I was born," Vivienne said lightly, like it was just another sad fact on a long list of them.
Even she had to admit the story sounded a little too tragic to be real.
She let out a soft laugh, almost self-mocking. "Now my brother's the only family I've got left."
And the more she spun the tale, the more her thoughts flickered, unbidden, to her mother — to the memories she usually kept buried.
"I have to find 'him' ."
For once, Leo didn't have a snarky comeback. There wasn't much you could say to something like that.
After a moment, he muttered, "You two must've been close."
Who else would keep looking after all these years?
Vivienne's lips curved just a little, somewhere between a smile and something softer. "We used to bicker all the time —about everything and nothing. But after all these years apart, there's still this voice in the back of my head, telling me to keep searching. Maybe that's what family is."
Leo shook his head, clearly unconvinced.
Family was a lottery, nothing more.
Sometimes you won. Most times, you didn't.
But he wasn't about to unpack his own baggage in front of a stranger. So instead, he changed the subject. "That stuff any good?"
Vivienne, sharp as ever, caught the shift in his tone immediately. She smiled to herself and rolled with it, lifting the nutrition pack and giving it a little shake.
"Classic. Not exactly gourmet, but it'll do."
Leo's blue eyes flicked to the pack, thoughtful. "Don't think I've seen any other flavors."
Good.
He's talking.
That's a start.
Vivienne kept sipping her nutrition pack, her movements slow, almost delicate, like a squirrel nibbling on a nut. And she kept the conversation flowing, carefully, strategically steering it toward him.
She didn't ask about his problems outright. That would've scared him off. Instead, she dropped a casual line: "Power shouldn't be a license to do harm. Just like second genders — they define how we evolved, not what we're worth."
If anyone else had said it, Leo would've scoffed, called them naïve. But coming from her — a weak Sentinel, soft around the edges, someone who'd clearly spent her life looking after a fragile Guide brother —
he believed it.
Leo exhaled slowly. "Shame not everyone understands that."
Vivienne caught the shift in his expression and knew instantly:
Bingo.
She'd hit a nerve.
She'd seen this pattern a thousand times — in every gossip magazine and cheap romance novel she'd ever skimmed. Young Guides like Leo? They had two kinds of problems:
One, trying to find their perfect match — that mythical 100% compatible Sentinel. Two, family. Usually a suffocating, overbearing Sentinel relative.
Leo, she'd bet good money, was the second kind.
...
Across the table, Leo rested his chin in his hand, watching Vivienne sip her sad excuse for dinner.
The nutrition pack was standard issue for prisoners. He knew it tasted like cardboard — he'd heard the crew complain.
The woman would pause after taking two sips of the nutritional liquid,her throat slightly moving as she swallowed it down. Vivienne wasn't deliberately acting demure, but her movements were still restrained, deliberate, much like a little squirrel holding onto its nut.
Leo caught himself staring. Somehow, she didn't look half as annoying as he remembered.
And he was already thinking,
Next time,
maybe I'll bring her something hot.