Cassian’s POV

The warehouse loomed like a black skeleton against the night sky, vast, silent, and half-swallowed by shadows.

I parked the van a distance away and slipped out, my boots crunching softly against the gravel. The air was heavy with the scent of oil, rust, and something else, something metallic and sour. Blood, maybe or maybe just the ghosts of a thousand deals gone wrong in this place.

Too quiet. That was the first thing I noticed. Not a whisper of movement, not a flicker of ...