The city never slept; it only changed its mask. In the early hours, it wore the guise of a deserted labyrinth, shrouded in a heavy mist that softened the sharp edges of skyscrapers and turned streetlights into dim halos. Max's Ford cruised through the veiled streets, its headlights cutting through the fog like a knife through gauze. Rachel sat beside him, her eyes scanning the darkness for threats.
They had barely escaped the docks, leaving Moretti's broken empire behind. But Max knew that removing Moretti was only the first step. The true rot lay deeper, hidden in the city's very foundation. They had won a battle, but the war was far from over.
The Ford pulled up to an unmarked building on the outskirts of the city. To the casual observer, it was just another abandoned warehouse, but to those in the know, it was a safe haven—a place where they could regroup and plan their next move. Max led Rachel inside, his senses alert to any sign of danger.