Lorenzo POVThe shipment arrives just before dusk, which is exactly how I like it.There is something honest about work done in that thin hour between day and night, ironic I know, when the world is undecided and people are tired enough to make mistakes. Mistakes are useful, they reveal loyalty, competence, fear. And tonight, I want to see all three.The warehouse sits near the docks, a slab of concrete and steel that looks abandoned to anyone passing by. No signs. No markings. Just another forgotten building in a city full of them. Inside, however, it runs like a well oiled machine. Lights hum overhead. Pallets are stacked in clean, measured rows, my men move with purpose, not chatter. No one wastes energy speaking unless necessary. Maybe it’s because I am here, I don’t know.Enzo walks beside me, tablet in hand, already reciting numbers before I ask.“Forty-two crates total. Six delayed at customs, but our contact confirmed release by morning. Inventory matches the manifest.”“I
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