"Tell me you're fucking kidding me," I snarled, slamming my fist on the desk hard enough to make the lamp jump. "Those limp-dicked, moon-worshipping cum-rags actually took them?"
Callum stood across from me, jaw tight. "This confirms what we already know. Scouts found the scene. Vehicle tracks match a coordinated block. Medic ID'd the residue on the window—a fast-acting chemical. And my contacts reconfirm a Moonless Order convoy headed west right after."
I paced behind my desk like a rabid animal, hands clenched so tight.
"We've been treating those assholes like a mild fucking headache for months! A few graffiti tags, some weak-ass threats, a couple of scouts sniffing around the borders… their stupid attacks right within Graymoor territory, and we laughed it off. Called them 'mid-level nuisances.' Now they've got my mate and my brother?!"
I grabbed the nearest paperweight and hurled it against the wall. It shattered satisfyingly.
