AXEL’S POV:
The Manhattan docks reeked of salt, rust, and a thin veil of danger that no amount of floodlights could dispel. My boots clicked against the worn concrete as I stepped off the private pier, the chill of the night cutting through the black wool of my coat.
Four grueling hours of oversight had passed. My team and I had inspected every corner of the seaport, ensuring the perimeter was secure, every guard in place, and all surveillance equipment operational. I never left things to chance. Not there. Not that night. The shipment had finally arrived—three massive cargo ships docked at my Manhattan seaport. That location was a fortress. I controlled the authorities, paid off anyone who mattered, and left the rest too terrified to intervene. No one dared interfere.
I stopped at
