The docks felt colder than usual as the fog rolled in, thick and suffocating. We had agreed to meet here—neutral ground, away from prying eyes. I spotted Marshall approaching, his silhouette barely visible through the mist. He walked with that infuriating swagger, as if he owned the world. My blood boiled just looking at him.
“Marshall,” I greeted, the word barely controlled.
“Nico,” he replied, stopping a few feet away, his face half-lit by the dim dock lights. “I assume this isn’t just a social call.”
I forced myself to keep calm, but the anger was simmering just below the surface. “Let’s not waste time. Where’s Grace?”
His eyes narrowed slightly, a hint of amusement in them. “You really think I have her? Interesting, considering you’re the one who can’t keep track of your own girl.”
