The air in Lucas Greco’s office was thick with frustration, the kind that coiled around the occupants like a noose, growing tighter with every unanswered question.
Nikolai’s pulse drummed in his ears, his hands clenched into fists so tight that his knuckles burned. He had never been good at sitting still, especially when someone had dared to attack what was his. Alex had come so damn close to—no. He couldn’t even finish the thought. The memory of her pained scream, that unmistakable sound of agony that had once marked a bullet tearing through her flesh, had yanked him out of his conversation and sent him sprinting down the hall. By the time he’d broken into the bathroom, all that was left was the shattered mirror, blood smearing the tiles, and Alex, barely holding herself upright, grippin
