Lucian POV By the time the third call came in, I stopped asking for details. Not because I didn’t care, but because I already understood the pattern. “Capo, the south warehouse—” “I know,” I cut in, stepping out of the car before Enzo could even come around to open my door. The line went quiet for half a second. “…two men down,” the voice continued. “Shipment intercepted before we could reroute.” “Send me the footage,” I said. “And get the rest of the inventory out of any exposed location. I don’t want to hear about another loss today.” “Yes, Capo.” I ended the call and walked straight into the building, my mind already moving ahead of the situation. Phones rang somewhere in the background. Men spoke too quickly, passing information that overlapped, contradicted, then corrected itself.
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