Lucian Thornewell walked slowly down the hallway like a predator who no longer hunted in the forest, but waited in his own den for the prey to come to him. His eyes were dark, his gaze devoid of nuance. He was angry.
Not the explosive kind of rage street soldiers displayed. This was different. Cold, calculated, a venom that simmered in whispers—something someone had spent years learning to control... but the dam was starting to crack.
One of his men had just reported that another shipment had gone missing. Weapons. Two containers. Again. It was the third week in a row. Elliot might’ve done it... again.
And every single lost box weakened Lucian’s authority. Every vanished shipment was a piece of the legacy he upheld with blood. So when he entered the gray room, he was no longer the man w
