The photograph felt like a ghost from the past, carrying with it memories Armando had buried deep. The two men standing beside him in the image—one had been a close ally, the other a rival turned bitter enemy. Both were supposed to be long gone, their chapters closed in the bloody pages of the Prime Syndicate’s history.
But this photo’s presence proved otherwise.
“Antonio,” Armando said, his voice low and cold. “Pull up every record we have on these two. I want to know if there’s any trace of them still alive.”
Antonio nodded, already typing on his tablet. “If they’ve resurfaced, we’ll find them.”
Alexander approached, his phone pressed to his ear as he coordinated security measures. “We’ve got extra eyes on our remaining warehouses and key locations. If they make another move,
