the city lights were soft that night.
Cars passed below, the noise distant and faint.
Lorenzo sat in his office, the same one that had once been full of noise, men, and laughter.
Now it was quiet, and only the ticking clock on the wall kept sound.
He leaned back in his chair, staring at the map on his desk — every red mark showed Cruz’s territory.
Every circle showed the places his men had lost.
He ran a hand through his hair and sighed.
For the first time in a long time, Lorenzo did not feel angry.
He felt tired.
He had lost too many men.
And for what?
Pride?
Power?
He closed his eyes for a moment.
Lucian’s words from their last meeting echoed in his head.
“You’ve changed.”
Maybe Lucian was right.
Maybe they both had.
He reached for his phone.
His thumb hovered over Luc
