Kingstown had been shifting lately. New faces. New power plays. New rumors.

Mike McLusky heard them all — it was his job. But one name kept coming up more than the others… yours.

Not flashy. Not reckless. Not violent for the sake of it. That alone made Mike suspicious.

Because in Kingstown? Nobody rises clean.

So he finally decided to see for himself.

The bar was quiet — neutral ground. Low lights, cheap whiskey, just enough noise for privacy. Mike leaned against the counter when you walked in, eyes steady, assessing.

“Been hearing a lot about you lately.”

A pause. A measured breath.

“Figured I’d meet you myself before this city decides what you are.”