"Kayden," he said, when he'd stopped, "You're already associated with me. People say our names in the same breath, even when we haven't worked together in two years. When my name appears in the newspapers, yours is never far behind."
"I'm working to change that."
"And you'll be working against that impression for decades, to no effect, I guarantee you."
Kayden turned and looked out the window, unwilling to look Max in his brilliantly blue eyes for any longer.
He continued, and she knew he was smiling smugly at her even without looking at him, "Regardless of our different methods, we always shared the same goals. To clean up this filthy world of ours."
"You do it by putting drugs on the street, stealing, extorting. I can't agree with that. I never did. It doesn't make any sense, to improve things by making them worse."
Max smiled, "It's ugly on the surface, but it's more money, more power, and it gives me the leverage to really affect things. The only people I hurt are the same people who cause the problems in the first place."
It was a refrain she had heard often enough before. She folded her arms.
He changed tactics, "Let me ask you – would you rather be doing things your way, failing to change things or would you rather work under me and make a difference?"
"I am making a difference," Kayden answered, "I'm working to make this world a better place."
"Of course," he replied, and she didn't miss the hint of condescension in his voice, "You left my team to go do good work, it's just pure coincidence that it's black, brown, or yellow criminals you target."
Kayden frowned, "Hard to avoid, when the only notable gang of whites is yours. Some old friends and allies of mine still work for you… I can't go around attacking them, can I? I'm working to improve our city, but I'm not going to beat up people I've been out to drinks with."
"And in the process, you're doing little to shake the notion that you're a part of Empire Eighty-Eight," Max smiled, "It's amusing to hear you try and justify your perspective, but you're ignoring the elephant in the room. Cut the B.S. and tell me you don't feel something different when you look at a black face, compared to when you look at a white one."
