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Dayna didn’t blink. She reached into her trench coat and pulled out a single, tarnished silver coin—a relic from the job that had nearly cost her everything. She slid it across the bar. "Tell her Dayna is here. Tell her the vendetta just reached its expiration date."
Dayna stood at the mahogany bar, her reflection in the mirror sharp enough to cut. She wasn’t here for the drinks or the music. She was here for a debt that had been aging like bad wine for three years. dayna vendetta siri
The bartender’s hand stopped. He looked at the coin, then at the steel in Dayna's eyes. Without a word, he signaled to a heavy-set man by the velvet curtains. Dayna didn’t blink
"I wondered when you’d come for the rest of it," Siri said, her voice smooth and dangerous. "Tell her Dayna is here
Moments later, Dayna was led into the back office. Siri sat behind a desk carved from dark oak, her silhouette framed by the glowing city skyline. She didn't look surprised.
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