Perfect.
I stepped through first.
The syndicate boys went silent.
Three of them. The one in the middle wore a leather jacket over a shirt. Gold chain. Hair slicked back too carefully to be his own idea. Someone’s lieutenant, not top dog. The older guy on his left had the dead eyes that came with decades of doing the wrong kind of math. The third was young, jumpy, fingers tapping the edge of the table.
All of them Hollis-adjacent. All of them forgetful, apparently.
Good. I liked reminding people.
Rome shut the hatch behind us with a quiet thud.
“Phones,” he said, hand out.
The young one fumbled his out immediately. The older man hesitated a fraction too long. Rome raised one brow. The man sighed and surrendered a battered model like he was handing over an organ.
Leather Jacket tried to keep his.
Rome’s palm landed down on the surface with a crack that made all three flinch
“Let’s not start with insults,” Rome easy smile didn’t reach his eyes. “You’re in our house. You play by our rules.”
Leather Jacket muttered something under his breath, but he slid the phone over. Rome piled them neatly beside the door and came to stand at my shoulder.
I didn’t sit.
I liked the height advantage. Liked looking down on them. Made the power imbalance obvious before I even opened my mouth.
“Which one of you is Leto?” I asked.
Middle one straightened. “That’d be me.”
I let my gaze travel over him slowly. No obvious weapons. Hands restless on the table.
“You run the East freight block for Hollis. You were given a three-year lease on the tunnels along D-line for your little side operations. You were told to stay off Crow ports, keep your hands off Crow staff, and pay your dues on time.”
“We’ve honored the arrangement.”
I watched his fingers twitch.
“No. You haven’t.”
A ripple went through the trio.
Rome leaned a hip against the table, all lazy interest. “So here’s the fun part. We already know the answers. This is just a test to see if you’re going to waste our time.”
The older man shifted in his seat. “There a point to this, Crow?”
Rome smiled. “Yeah. The point is my brother doesn’t like being stolen from. And he really fucking doesn’t like liars.”
I didn’t raise my voice. I didn’t need to. Men, who weren’t listened to yelled.
“Three weeks ago,” I looked at Leto, “one of your men skimmed product off a container in Dock Nine. He didn’t know the cameras in that corridor were ours, not the port’s. He also didn’t know the girl he shoved into the wall on his way out had a Crow pin under her collar.”
Leto’s shoulders tensed.
“He put his hands on our runner. He took what wasn’t his. Then he strutted back to your block and laughed about it. Loudly. With Veil audio running.”
