C36 BRUNO FILIPPO.

AXEL’S POV:

The Manhattan docks reeked of salt, rust, and a thin veil of danger that no amount of floodlights could dispel. My boots clicked against the worn concrete as I stepped off the private pier, the chill of the night cutting through the black wool of my coat.

Four grueling hours of oversight had passed. My team and I had inspected every corner of the seaport