Chapter 6 - The Waterfront Trap
The waterfront development was a sprawling skeleton of steel and concrete, a multi-billion-dollar project that Toby had just acquired from the ashes of the Vance Syndicate. At midnight, the site was deserted, wrapped in the chilling fog rolling off the harbor.
Toby stood on the third floor of the unfinished high-rise, looking out over the dark water. He was entirely alone. Or so it seemed.
From the shadows of the stairwell, four figures emerged, dressed in tactical black, carrying suppressed submachine guns. Graves led the pack, his eyes locked onto Toby’s silhouette.
"Mr. Thorne," Graves called out, his voice echoing off the concrete pillars. "Turn around slowly. Keep your hands where I can see them."
Toby didn't jump. He didn't panic. He slowly turned around, his hands resting casually in his pockets. "You're late. I expected Marcus to send his attack dogs an hour ago."
Graves frowned, raising his weapon. "Cocky till the end. Too bad your money can't buy you a bulletproof skull."
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"It doesn't need to," Toby replied. He pulled his right hand out of his pocket. In it was the same matte-black device he had used to unlock the Lamborghini. He pressed a button.
Instantly, the entire construction site lit up with blinding, stadium-grade floodlights. The mercenaries shielded their eyes, temporarily blinded.
