My inner circle sat around the main table—Damian, Marcus, Lucille, Isabella, and Ravenna. The twins stood in shadows, as always. Thomas leaned against the wall, arms crossed. Drake, Felix represented their respective divisions.
My faction.
"Three days of attacks," I said, pointing at the map. Red marks indicated every hit. "Seven supply caravans. Two warehouses. One workshop. Total losses of one hundred and forty thousand gold and most of those gold aren't ours."
Whistles of dismay.
"That's... substantial," Isabella said carefully. She was in full business mode in elegant dress, perfect posture, but her eyes were calculating. "We can absorb it, but not if it continues."
"It'll continue," Lucille said. She'd returned an hour ago from interrogating one of the hired thugs. "I got one to talk. They're being paid through dead drops. Hired by a 'concerned merchant' who wants to eliminate competition."
"Adrian," Marcus said.
