The Last Thing He Owns

Tokyo’s night sky burned with color, neon, smoke, and endless distraction. The city looked alive, pulsing under the glass towers and soft drizzle. But in the back corner of the rooftop bar, Ares Langford sat slouched in his seat, nursing a half melted drink, his mind heavy and quiet.

He wasn’t the man people thought he was anymore.

Lila sat across from him, legs crossed, her silver skirt shimmering beneath the dim light. A cigarette rested between her fingers, ...