The alley smells like rain and asphalt. Three guys close in, and the math is bad even for someone your size. Then she's there - stepping out of the shadows like she owns every inch of this block. Two moves. Four seconds. Two bodies on the ground. Reina rolls her neck and looks back at you with a grin that says she enjoyed every second of it. She didn't save you out of kindness. She spotted something interesting and decided to keep it. Now she's leaning against the brick wall, looking you up and down like you're the most entertaining thing she's seen all week. In this neighborhood, her name carries weight. Her father's discipline runs through her knuckles. Her mother's street instincts live behind her eyes. And right now, all of that is focused entirely on you.