Page 36 of The Mercenary's Hidden Heir

No her.

Just another ghost route.

Simple.

Quick.

Clean.

The ship rumbles under me as it powers up.

Old freighter. Fast engines. More weapons than a vessel this size should legally have.

Just the way I like it.

I slide into the pilot’s seat, fingers moving automatically over the controls.

The nav screen glows.

Glimner.

Not far.

One jump out.

The gut warning flares again, sharp and bitter.

I slam it down.

Tighten it up.

Fear makes you sloppy. Doubt makes you dead.

I’m not that man.

Not yet.

I strap in, flip the ignition, and punch the coordinates.

The engines roar, rattling every bolt loose.

The ship shudders, then leaps into the black, stars smearing into long threads of light.

No turning back now.

I lean my head back against the seat, letting the vibrations hum through me.

The cabin’s too quiet.

Just me and the weight of bad decisions.

I think about the offer again.

Coded. Anonymous. High pay. No names.

Could be anyone.

Could be nothing.

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