Morning fell across Night City like a half-hearted apology: grey skies glowing under the weight of neon. The skyline buzzed with traffic and low-flying transports, but within the sleek black interior of the Aerondight S9 Guinevere, the chaos of the city felt like a distant rumour.
David Martinez sat in the passenger seat, barely breathing.
"You're takin' me to North Oak?" he asked without turning.
M, behind the wheel in a black and gold tailored suit, didn't bother glancing at him. "That's what the route says."
David's eyes were glued to the windows, wide as dinner plates. The further they went, the more the crumbling edge of the city fell away—replaced by carefully-trimmed hedges, floating neon signs reading things like "Silk & Chrome" and "Live Organic." The streets here were clean. Trees weren't dead. Homes had windows instead of bullet holes.
The car pulled into a private driveway, winding up toward an architectural beast of a mansion. Black steel ribs. Gold-plated detailing. A flat roof with solar shielding and a helipad. A wall of glass gave a direct view into a pristine living space. A far cry from his old shoebox in Santo Domingo.
David whistled. "No fucking way..."
"Get out," M said. The car hissed softly as the doors lifted.
David followed the older man into the home. Everything inside felt too clean, too expensive—like even looking at things too long would put a dent in his wallet. M walked with a cold, effortless confidence through the corridor, leading straight to a gleaming chrome-and-marble kitchen.
There she was.
Gloria Martinez.
Hair shorter, bruises faded but not gone. Dressed in a warm robe, she sat at the breakfast bar next to another woman—tall, blonde, classy, gorgeous, but soft-looking. Gloria was sipping warm tea, laughing gently with her companion.
David froze. For a moment, his brain refused to register the scene.
"Ma?"
Gloria turned.
Her tea hit the floor.
"David?!"
She stumbled up from her stool and rushed him, ignoring the pain in her side. David caught her in his arms, trembling. He broke instantly, dropping to his knees with her, wrapping her up in a crushing hug.
"I thought you were gone... I thought you were dead, Ma..."
She cried into his shoulder. Ava—who had already risen to serve M—stood by with misty eyes. She wordlessly prepared two extra plates and placed one in front of David.
M sat down silently, unfazed by the emotional reunion. He forked into scrambled eggs and sausages with surgical precision.
Ava sniffled. "You could at least pretend to care, you bastard."
M shrugged. "I'm hungry."
They all ate together. Gloria and David traded stories—his about the accident, her about waking up in Vic's clinic, recovering under Ava's care. M only interrupted once to ask for more toast.
After the plates were cleared, David stood awkwardly.
"Hey... about before. That day. I... sorry. I shouldn't have—"
M raised a hand, cutting him off.
"Lesson two," he said, eyes still fixed on his coffee. "Strong people don't care about apologies."
David blinked.
M continued, tone cold as winter. "If you offend someone powerful and they spare you, it's for one of three reasons: they don't consider you worth noticing... they've got a hidden motive—which almost always means you'll wish they just killed you... Or they're doing it as a favor to someone."
He sipped.
"You're breathing 'cause of reason three. You're Gloria's son. If you weren't, you'd be dead."
David clenched his fists. Teeth grinding.
M looked him in the eye for the first time that morning.
"You've proven nothing. You're still a disappointment."
David flared with anger. "I should take my mom and get the hell out of here."
"Where to?" M asked calmly. "You're jobless. She's injured. No insurance. No home. No food. You really gonna take her out there to starve on the street just to protect your fragile pride?"
Gloria looked away.
"Lesson three," M added. "Never let emotions cloud your judgment. Pride matters—for the strong. If I were insulted, I'd paint this city in blood 'cause I can. You? You survive. That's your job."
David's fists trembled. His lips pressed into a thin line.
"I don't want your fucking charity."
M smirked.
"Who said anything about charity? You want work, right?"
David looked up slowly.
"Then from now on, you work for me," M said.
Ava stepped in, already taking mental inventory. "I'll prepare a room upstairs."
"You and your mother can stay here," M continued. "Until you earn enough to leave."
David paused. "What's the job?"
"Right now? Training. You've got raw tools but no discipline. After that... who knows? Maybe you'll actually be useful."
David scowled. "And pay?"
M leaned back in his chair. "Once you're out on your own? A hundred thousand a month."
David blinked.
"But while you're here—living off my food, roof, security, transport and medical insurance —I'll dock it. You get five thousand a month until you earn your place."
It wasn't a bad deal.
David looked at Gloria, who nodded with misty eyes.
He exhaled, defeated. "Alright. I'm in."
M stood. "Good. Ava will give you a tour. Training starts tomorrow."
David muttered under his breath, "Asshole..."
"I heard that," M said without looking back.
To be continued...
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Author here.
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