An Unfair Negotiating Tactic

Nova wanted the last slice of cake. She could have made a compelling argument. Instead, she tucked her hands beneath her cheeks, leaned forward, and smiled with the sort of calculated sweetness that made Byte immediately suspicious. “No,” Byte said. “You don’t get to discover this power.” Meek Meek was already sliding the plate across the table. “Look at her.” “I AM looking. That’s how I know it’s organized crime.” Nova accepted the fork without breaking eye contact. The sweater sleeves, the little smile, the patient silence—every detail had been deliberate. “Thank you,” she said sweetly. Byte turned to Meek Meek. “We used to have a justice system.”