“Move faster! Get those crates inside!”

The docks were filled with shouts and the grind of machinery. Forklifts carried steel containers while guards barked orders. The air was thick with salt and oil, the night fog rolling in from the sea.

Lorenzo leaned against a shipping crate, cigarette glowing between his fingers. His leather jacket caught the damp air, and his eyes scanned the shadows. Something felt wrong. It was too quiet between the noise. Too still.

Marco, one of Alessandro’s ...