“We walk from here,” Dante said, checking his watch.

He opened his door, and the cold, wet wind rushed into the vehicle.

I pulled my coat tightly around myself and stepped out into the rain.

The air smelled of salt, rusted metal, and diesel fuel.

Dante walked beside me, his hand resting near his waistband, his eyes scanning the darkness.

Two of his security guards moved ahead of us, their dark figures blending into the shadows.

We walked along the side of the warehouse, our boots crunching softly on the wet gravel.

Up ahead, a warm glow of yellow light spilled out from a partially open side door of a metal building.

The low murmur of voices drifted through the rain.

“Stay behind me,” Dante whispered, pushing me gently against the cold corrugated metal wall.

I pressed myself into the shadows, my heart hammering against my ribs.

Dante crept closer to the door, peering through the gap.

I leaned slightly forward, trying to see past his shoulder.

Inside the warehouse, a single desk lamp illuminated a stack of wooden crates.