The rain had stopped, but the air remained thick with the scent of wet asphalt and the distant hum of neon lights. Max Knight stood at the window of the safe house, staring out at the city that never seemed to sleep. The skyline was a jagged line of steel and glass, reflecting the dim light of a moon partially obscured by clouds. This city, with all its secrets and sins, felt more alive at night, its pulse beating in rhythm with the shadows.
Vivian sat at the table, a map of the city spread out before her. Red circles marked key locations, places where they suspected Marcus and Isabella's network still held sway. She looked up at Max, her eyes weary but determined. "We've made a dent, Max, but we can't afford to let up now."
Max turned from the window, his gaze hardening. "I know. Larkins was just a piece of the puzzle. Marcus and Isabella are still out there, pulling the strings. And now, we have another problem."
