At that, Cash's face darkened. "You people are all the same—sly as snakes. One second you're loyal, the next you turn your back! I paid good money for those workers, and the minute the world fell apart, every damn one of them ran home. Not a soul cared if I lived or died!" Natalie rolled her eyes. "They worked for you, not belonged to you. What, you expected them to follow you into the apocalypse like loyal puppies?" Before he could snap back, she pressed on, "What about your family? Still back in your country—or are they ... gone?" The question hit him like a dart. His voice sank. "They're back home, of course. I don't even know if they're still alive ... " But then his gaze shifted—hungry, gleaming—as it landed on her. Once he had that helicopter of hers, he could cross the ocean again. He could see them. Touch them. Be home. Natalie caught the look and sighed. "What are you staring at me for? Haven't seen a beautiful woman before?" He nearly choked. "Are you done with your questions? Can you leave now?" She gave him one last glance, then turned away without another word. All those questions had a purpose: she needed to know if he had anyone close, anyone who might avenge him. The verdict was clear: none. His family was far away. Only one trusted partner—the pockmarked idiot. Satisfied, she stepped out of the tent. The two Black guards followed orders, leading them to an open patch about 30 feet away and dropping a folded tent onto the ground before turning to leave.Natalie called after them, "Hey, you're not gonna help us set it up?" She and Cassian had been traveling all day. They had bigger things to plan than wasting strength on pitching canvas. The men exchanged a look. Their dark faces gave little away, but their meaning was obvious: Why the hell should we? Natalie smirked, pulled two fistfuls of candy from her pocket, and tossed them over. "For your trouble." They froze—then darted forward, each snatching a handful like kids on Halloween. "Leave it to us," one said eagerly. Natalie added sweetly, "Make it sturdy. And if it passes inspection, there's more where that came from." That was instant motivation. The two got to work, grunting and hammering stakes like their lives depended on it. Candy and chocolate—currency of the apocalypse. Easy to carry, good for trade, and lifesaving when blood sugar crashed. Natalie never ate sweets herself. The stash in her spatial pack existed for exactly this purpose—instant goodwill in bite-size form. She glanced around the camp. Cash's big tent stood apart, surrounded by open ground. He'd made sure hers was planted just far enough—30 feet away—to keep her from sneaking in or planting explosives nearby. Credit where it was due—the man wasn't entirely stupid. Without her ability to teleport, sneaking past him into that warehouse would've been tricky. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught movement—faces peeking from other tents, whispering, watching. Word was already spreading.She turned to Cassian. "Let them finish this. We'll take a walk." He nodded. "Alright." Their three furry companions perked up immediately, tails twitching to follow. Natalie waved them off. "Stay here. We won't go far." Lucky and the others sat reluctantly, staring after her as she walked away—then turned to gape at the two men setting up the tent. What are these strange creatures? Their puzzled eyes seemed to say. Why do they look like that? The two men felt that stare burning holes through their backs. Being watched by a beast that could flatten a tiger was ... unnerving. Their hands shook as they worked. Meanwhile, Natalie and Cassian walked side by side through the rows of tents. He suddenly chuckled, the sound low and amused. She shot him a look. "What's so funny?" His lips curved. "Just thinking—you've got a real talent for getting under people's skin." She realized what he meant—how she'd pushed Cash and his lackey to the edge earlier. "Well, if I don't make them lose control, how else am I supposed to find their weak spots?" He hummed in agreement. It was true. From the moment she walked in, she'd had them dancing on strings—every twitch, every word giving something away. The thought made him smile again. Natalie narrowed her eyes. "You're laughing again?"Ever since they'd gotten married, Cassian's stoic composure had vanished. The once-cool genius now grinned like a man who'd discovered sunshine. "Nothing," he said warmly. "Just ... you're adorable." She snorted. "Yeah, tell that to the pockmarked one. He'd probably have a stroke if he heard you."