The insistent ringtone of Lucas's phone shattered the peaceful morning air of Rhodes. He had just stepped out of the shower, the steam still curling around him as he glanced at the caller ID. It was one of his men stationed in London. Lucas's heart skipped a beat; the call at this hour could only mean trouble and that trouble had a name: Adam.
"Speak," Lucas commanded, his voice devoid of emotion.
"Sir, it's Adam," the voice on the other end began with tension. "He’s been in an accident. It doesn't look good. He’s in critical condition at St. Thomas' Hospital."
"How did it happen?" Lucas demanded, his mind already racing ahead to the possibilities.
"A hit-and-run, sir. Witnesses say a black car came out of nowhere, hit him, and sped off. It doesn’t seem like a random accident."
Lucas’
