Adrian’s POV
The penthouse serves as a command center of intense focus, the late afternoon light filtering through the windows, casting long shadows across the hardwood floor covered with cartel dossiers, warehouse blueprints, and Danny Voss’s rehabilitation logs. The air carries a faint hint of cedar from my cologne, a reminder of the closeness with Serena during our recent legal battles, though today’s urgency shifts to the criminal undercurrents threatening our foundation. I stand by the dining table, my shirt sleeves rolled up, the faded scratches from our past tensions a distant echo on my chest, my fingers tracing the edge of a smuggled supply manifest—medical equipment rerouted through Voss’s network. The foundation for Emily’s memory, now a public success with the twins’ involveme
