That almost made Shuyin smile. Almost. The corner of her mouth twitched—the first crack in her composure all day.
"He's not someone you can remove," she said calmly, and it was not arrogance. It was fact.
Tank held her gaze, unblinking. "Then he better be someone worth staying for."
Silence fell. Not tense. Just direct. Heavy with the weight of what they had survived together, and what they refused to let her endure alone.
Shuyin didn't deflect. Didn't soften it.
"He is."
That answer landed. Clean. Certain. Like a blade finding its sheath.
Blade nodded once, a small, decisive motion. Then let it go.
The conversation shifted again, lighter now, like air after a storm. Razor stretched out in her chair, her long legs crossing at the ankle, the tension draining from her shoulders.
"So, now you are a married woman, running a conglomerate, raising kids… a woman with five jobs to handle."
