Roses Portable: Passing Me Around Kali

Kali smiled. It was a terrifying thing—a smile devoid of warmth, full of teeth. "You think I’m the winnings. You think I’m the prize."

"Careful with the merchandise," a gravelly voice growled from behind. It was Vance, the enforcer for the Syndicate. He had 'picked her up' from the penthouse suite of the Triad boss two hours ago.

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The door groaned open, revealing a wall of stale cigarette smoke and the low thrum of bass-heavy music that vibrated in the marrow of Kali’s bones. Kali smiled

Inside, the room was a gallery of criminals. The exchange point. Every major faction in the city sent a representative here to settle debts, swap intel, or trade assets. Tonight, Kali was the asset.

Kali picked it up. She swirled the liquid, watching the light refract. "You know," she said, her voice suddenly clear, cutting through the bass, "everyone keeps treating me like the pot." You think I’m the prize

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