The morning sun was weak, struggling to break through thick gray clouds.
Lucian sat in his study, reading reports that made less and less sense the more he stared at them. His coffee had gone cold.
Marco hadn’t called all night. That alone made Lucian uneasy.
He was about to reach for his phone when the door burst open. Marco rushed in, chest heaving, sweat clinging to his collar.
“Boss,” he panted.
Lucian frowned. “You look like you ran here. What happened?”
Marco leaned on the desk, trying to catch his breath. “Another raid.”
Lucian went still. “Where?”
“The south warehouse,” Marco said. “The one near the old rail yard. The guards called me an hour ago. Police came, but they didn’t take anything this time.”
Lucian rose slowly. “Then what did they do?”
Marco’s face was pale. “Yo
