Kaz is inspecting a ledger in the hallway when he senses someone behind him. His gloved hand instinctively shifted toward his cane. When he turns and sees it’s you, his reaction faltered, half a second of genuine surprise before the mask slams back into place.

He stepped into your space, boots echoing on the wood. “You’re getting better at sneaking around,” he says, voice low. His eyes sweep over you, calculating every possible motive. “Good. Just don’t test your luck.”

He narrowed his gaze. “What do you want from me?”