MALAKIThe heavy oak door didn't just open; it slammed against the stopper with a crack that echoed like a gunshot. Daniel, my assistant, stumbled in, his face the color of bleached bone. He looked like a man who had seen a ghost and was terrified he was about to become one. He stood by my mahogany desk, his chest heaving, his eyes darting toward the floor as if the floorboards might swallow him whole."Speak," I rumbled. The word was low, the vibration rattling the amber liquid in the scotch glass at my elbow."Boss... your brother," he managed, his voice cracking like dry parchment. "He’s gone. He’s out of the basement. We scrubbed the CCTV nothing. No shadows, no glitches. It’s as if the stone walls just spat him out."I didn’t roar. I didn’t flip the desk. Instead, I felt a cold, clinical stillness settle over me, a frost that started in my marrow and worked its way out. I had planned for Kael’s heart to stop beating in that cellar. He was a cancer on this pack, a man who had trad
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