The vibration of the phone against the desk sounded like a gunshot in the quiet study. Grayson didn’t hesitate. He swiped the screen before the first ring could even finish.
"Speak," he commanded.
"We have him," Marcus’s voice came through, gravelly and efficient. There was a faint sound of struggling in the background, a muffled shout, the screech of a chair before it was silenced by a heavy thud. "He’s at the warehouse. Secured. No complications."
Grayson didn’t smile. He didn’t feel relief. He felt a cold, surgical focus settling into his bones. He stood up, his chair scraping against the floor with a harsh groan that echoed his intent. Beside him, Paul straightened, his playful demeanor from earlier vanishing instantly. The game was over; the work had begun.
"I’m heading down," Gra
