"Sir," a man's voice came through, tense and urgent, "we need your presence. The shipment has been delayed at the docks. Customs are sniffing around, asking questions. If we don't move now, it could draw unwanted attention."
Leo's jaw clenched. "And the men I assigned?"
"They're holding the containers, but they're nervous, sir. Too many eyes on them. They want to know if they should push through or pull back."
Leo's gray eyes darkened as he rose from his chair, already reaching for his jacket. "Tell them nothing until I arrive. If anyone touches that cargo, I'll deal with it myself."
"Yes, sir," the voice replied quickly before the line went dead.
Leo slipped on his black jacket and gathered the items he needed from the drawer, his expression cold, his movements precise and unhurried. Within moments, he was striding out of his office with purposeful steps.
