The city was a labyrinth of shadows, and Max Hastings knew every twist and turn. As he moved through the darkened streets, the neon glow reflecting in puddles of rainwater, he could feel the weight of the night pressing down on him. Moretti's empire was crumbling, but the man himself was still out there, a phantom lurking just out of reach.
Victoria Thorne walked beside him, her face set in grim determination. The docks operation had been a success, but it had only scratched the surface. They needed to cut off the head of the snake.
"We need to find him, Max," Victoria said, her voice barely more than a whisper. "Before he has a chance to regroup."
Max nodded, his jaw clenched. "He's desperate now. Desperate men make mistakes."
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