ARIA didn't leave things to chance. Chance was what humans called it when they failed to notice they'd already lost.
She had catalogued humans how they've been existing long before any of them learned to spell "consequence." Their patterns. Their reliable little fractures.
Their habit of dressing cowardice up as complexity. And the single lever that never bent, never rusted, never needed oil?
Greed.
More trustworthy than fear which could be drowned in bourbon and bravado. More predictable than love which had the shelf life of cut flowers in direct sunlight.
Show the right number to even the most sanctimonious suit and watch conviction turn to syrup in under six seconds.
Daniel wasn't even worth calling undisciplined.
Daniel was the sort of man who'd married for a title bump, then spent years treating his wife like an expired warranty he couldn't be bothered to frame.
Greed didn't merely work on Daniel.
It was the only language he still spoke fluently.
