The reporters smelled blood.
Holocams hovered like insects around the sleek balcony edge of Sommer Dai's penthouse. A few had even tried pinging the door manually — bold, desperate, or foolish. Questions were shouted. Rumors poured from lips like currency.
Until the main drive hissed.
And Arq arrived.
His airspeeder parked sideways — like it owned the atmosphere — and he stepped out wearing high-collared obsidian silk with subtle crimson lining, shades that cost more than some speeders, and a smirk weaponized for maximum disruption.
A glitter-drone trailed him. Of course.
He didn't flinch at the swarm of press. He welcomed it.
“Good evening, media hounds," Arq purred, voice magically amplified by the whisper-thin communicator at his collar. "I'd love to say I'm surprised, but this smells like the same recycled desperation that's been peddled since Season 7 of Corellian Spouses."
Cameras snapped. Mics extended. Some shouted.
"Is the Gilded Veil closing operations?"
"Is Therin Vos now a silent partner?"
"Is it true Sommer Dai has ties to the Diamond Eights gang?"
Arq removed his shades slowly, dramatically, revealing those impossible eyes rimmed in smoky gold shadow.
"I'll take those one at a time, darlings," he said coolly.
He pointed to the lead HoloNews anchor. "No. The Gilded Veil is not closing. If anything, we're expanding a new rooftop lounge. So please panic responsibly."
Another finger toward the tabloid probe-bot. "Therin Vos has no official stake in anything but bad perfume and worse posture. Sommer Dai hasn't sold a single credit's worth of equity — though she has been offered, begged, and bribed."
The reporters leaned forward like prey about to pounce.
"And the Diamond Eights?" Arq smiled wide. "Sommer Dai's only relationship with that gang is denying them entry. So if Jakob Lowman's trying to buy relevance through nostalgia — tell him this queen doesn't backslide."
A ripple went through the crowd. Someone tried to shout another question.
Arq waved a gloved hand lazily.
"That's all for now, star-chasers. I'll be sending a full press kit, two Veil invites for those of you with manners, and a public statement co-signed by our actual financials. Try journalism sometime. It might suit you."
Then, just for the flair of it — Arq blew a kiss to the nearest holo-drone and walked past them like the street was his runway.
Security detail closed in behind him, blocking the path as reporters tried to follow.
