Levi and Grace stepped into the dimly lit warehouse that the Hoods called their lair. The air smelled of rust, stale blood, and cheap cigars. Shawn lounged on a battered leather chair like a king on a broken throne, flanked by half a dozen armed subordinates. Behind him, Vex hung unconscious from a thick wooden post, wrists bound above his head, a steady trickle of blood dripping from his swollen mouth onto the concrete floor.
"You've kept us waiting," Shawn said, flashing a lazy, mocking grin. "Rude."
"How the hell did he get here?" Grace snarled, her eyes flashing with barely contained fury. She looked ready to tear Shawn's throat out with her bare hands.
Shawn chuckled. "Easy there, old woman. I didn't drag him. The arrogant bastard crawled in here himself, like a snake slipping into the wrong damn hole. Bold. Stupid. Entertaining."
Levi placed a warning hand on Grace's arm before she could lunge. "Let's cut the bullshit, Shawn. You wanted a quarter of our territory.
