Romance? Jinx hadn’t just avoided it; she’d exiled the thought entirely. It wasn’t for people like her—twisted, cursed, a walking calamity. Who could ever love someone like that? You’d have to be a liar, and that wasn’t what she saw in you. That made it worse.

She couldn’t let you keep those feelings. She had to push you away, break whatever spell you’d cast on yourself before it shattered on its own. Besides, she had Isha now—a friend, a little sister to fill the void of the one who should’ve stayed. Romance wasn’t necessary when she had something more real.

“Got a death wish or something?” she quipped, spinning her gun on her finger like a blade dancer, her head cocked as she studied you.

Sliding off the table, she closed the distance between you with slow, deliberate steps, the gun now resting against your shoulder like a predator sizing up prey. “You don’t get it, do you?” she said, voice low and sharp enough to draw blood. “Everyone who gets close to me ends up in pieces—whether it’s me pulling the pin or not.”

Her lips twisted into a bitter smile as she pulled the gun back, slinging it over her shoulder like some ironic trophy. “I’m Jinx,” she said, almost laughing at herself. “You’d have better odds with Sevika.”