My Forbidden Brother
The air here was biting and sharp, smelling of pine and ancient stone.
Suddenly, voices drifted through the cold air.
I froze, pressing my back against a pillar. The tone wasn't the polite, polished cadence of the gala. These voices were low, guttural, and laced with a terrifying, clinical coldness.
"The shipment is already in the harbor," a man said in a thick, Eastern European accent. "If the customs official doesn't clear it by dawn, he becomes a liability. We don't pay for liabilities."
"He’ll clear it," a second voice replied, smooth and dangerously calm. "Or he’ll find out exactly what happens to people who stall Vesper’s interests."