Aden noted the small crack in Jim Hands' facade, and let the man give his tirade. Professionalism, if I'd wanted you dead you'd be dead, don't insult me yada yada yada. Aden had heard it all before. Jim Hands might be good, but at his core he was no different from the thousand cutpurses and blades for hire Aden had walked circles around back in Korvosa. Men of too much pride, who thought themselves above the rest because they had a code, because they had rules, they did things how things ought to be done.

Well, Aden knew how to play to pride.

Hold the gaze for five seconds, no emotion. Crack a grin. Chuckle. Sweep back hair. Compliment. Predator metaphor. He'll go for that. Dogs and wolves.

"Well, Mister Hands, I do hope you'll accept my apology. I'd mistaken you for one of the Rellos' dogs. But I can see I stand in the presence of a wolf. Course I've got no issue with you, and thank you kindly for dropping us where you did."

The grin Aden had cracked quickly faded as he heard the voice coming from around the corner. His spine straightened as he pulled himself to attention. Aw, come on, why'd it have to be her? She scares the living daylights outta me."

The young woman entered the room, and all the confidence Aden had mustered with Jim Hands fled. This woman, Afrri Rello. Youngest of the Sczarni bosses Aden knew of, and toughest of the lot. How someone so young had done so much, Aden wasn't sure. But that little glint in her eye, it frightened Aden. So much power, and the will behind it so fickle. Wasn't something you could plan for. She reminded Aden just enough of another young woman he had known to make him uncomfortable. Unsurprising, then, when the only thing he could muster was a quiet, and he hoped respectful, "Good afternoon, Miss Rello."