Valdez leaned over the large steel table in the back room of the old warehouse. The dim fluorescent light flickered, casting long shadows across the walls. Maps were spread across the surface, pins marking locations, lines drawn in red and black ink. Every scrap of paper looked meticulously planned, every note deliberate.
Across from him, three of his most trusted men waited quietly. Each one had been with him through the hard times — the betrayals, the raids, the nights spent sleeping with one eye open. Their loyalty was tempered by fear and respect, a combination that Valdez valued more than anything.
“You’ve all seen the map,” Valdez said, his voice low but commanding. “Lucian and Lorenzo DeLuca think they’re untouchable. They run the ports, the shipping lines, their allies stretch ac
