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One powdered his chest with shimmeringkoko.

While another sucked vapor from a jeweled pipe and blew it in his direction like incense offered to a deity of depravity.

A high-tempo track throbbed through the speaker as bodies gyrated in a temple of self-indulgence.

Savvine’s stomach turned.

Does he even know that his people are dying for him each week?she thought.Does he have a clue of how many Bianchi loyalists have broken bones and bled in his name to keep this party barge afloat?

He glanced up, eyes lazy and glassy with pleasure, a slow smile curling at the corner of his mouth.

‘Well, well,’ he purred, lifting his glass toward her. ‘If it isn’t my almost-wife.’

She didn’t blink, nor smile, suppressing a twist of disgust on her lips.

‘Eugene,’ she said, stepping into the velvet-wrapped den of excess, ‘we need to talk.’

Eugene received her with the kind of oozing, slurred charm that only came from being three drinks deep and twenty lines past sober.

With a clap and wave of his hands, his glittering, giggling acolytes disappeared into akokocloud.

A privacy shield dropped as he grinned, teeth stained purple from the liqueur sloshing in his synth-glass.

His eyes, glazed and lazy, ran over her, but underneath the intoxication, she detected a flicker of calculation still alive, coiled like a snake that only pretended to be asleep.

‘My sweet, fierce protector,’ he drawled, arms stretched like he might rise to greet her, though he didn’t. ‘Have you come to scold me? Or join the party? Plenty of room on the divan.’

She stepped closer, ignoring the smoke and the haze of snowy drug powder in the air. ‘I’m here to request you to petition the Syndicate Commission.’

That elicited a snort. ‘I don’t plead, sweetheart. I suggest.’

‘Then propose this,’ she snapped. ‘They must haul Signet into an inquiry. To investigate whether they’re supplying illegal weapons to the Lombardis, such asHades-class banshees. Our enemies have them, and our people are dying as a result.’

Eugene’s laughter bellowed, rising from the sunken pit of his chest.

‘Forget it,’ he sniggered. ‘We need Signet on our side. Do you want to survive the next cycle of warfare, or do you want to send our people in with antique cannons and duct-taped shielding?They’ve got a floating shipyard the size of a moon, Savvine. They have access to Sable Group tech, real Pegasi-grade armor. They can build us a new frigate. Maybe three.’

She blanched.

‘They can’t be trusted,’ she bit out. ‘You think they’re only building for us? You think they’re not supplying the Lombardis, too?’

‘Are they?’ he said, sipping. ‘Because last I checked, Signet provides neutral and sophisticated protection for more than half the flotilla. I’ve been relying on you for the same, but from what I see, you’re failing on the job.’

There it was, the rub, the blame-casting.

She clenched her jaw as she took a step forward. ‘I’ve kept the Bianchi legacy secure over the last two years. We’ve had fewer crime incidents this past quarter than any other in five years. Murder is at 30% lower than it was the previous month, robbery, breaking, and entering are down too. Petty public offenses are almost negligible, and we’ve wiped out most of the oldpizzoextortion rings.’

‘All that tells me is that you’re an internal security specialist with zero capability to play with the big boys outside.’

She bit back the urge to surge forward and slap the grin off his cocksure face. Or better still, tackle the man to the ground, but she inhaled hard and kept her temper in check.

‘We can’t fight what we can’t see, not when the missiles being lobbed at us are illegal as all hell. Let me find the evidence that Signet is behind this, and we can take it to the Syndicate together.’

Eugene’s smile vanished.

She didn’t see his hand move.

The laser gun just appeared, with no warning, in his hand, its barrel pointed between her eyes.