Albert's POV
The warehouse was a cavernous space, the air thick with the metallic tang of blood and the stale scent of fear. Two figures, trussed up like turkeys, hung suspended from the rafters, their faces contorted in a mask of terror. My men, ever efficient, flanked the entrance, their expressions stoic but their eyes glinting with predatory hunger.
Stepping into the warehouse, I let the silence stretch, the weight of my presence hanging heavy in the air. The two men, their eyes wide with a mixture of defiance and sheer terror, locked gazes with me. Neither spoke, their silence as deafening as a scream.
A slow smile spread across my face, a smile devoid of warmth. These men, whoever they were, knew the game. Loyalty, even in the face of overwhelming odds, was a prized commodity in
