Although it was still daytime, the underground parking lot felt cold and far removed from the world outside. The overhead lights flickered faintly, casting long, pale shadows across the concrete floor.
Damien stood beside his black Rolls-Royce, one hand in his pocket, the other resting lightly on the closed briefcase beside him.
Vladislav arrived moments later, stepping out of a black SUV with two of his men behind him. One of them opened the back door and retrieved a case, which Vladislav carried over himself.
“Damien Wolfe,” he greeted with respect.
But Damien didn’t respond. His eyes only dropped to the case as Vladislav opened it.
Inside were stacks of neatly bound cash, but not enough. Damien didn’t need to count to know it was short.
“You’re missing half,” he declared.
Vladisl
