That was planned.
My eyes shift past her.
Izzy.
Slumped on the couch, blood soaked through his shoulder, jaw clenched while one of my men works on him.
“Sit the fuck still,” the medic mutters, pressing into the wound.
Izzy hisses but doesn’t fight it. “Just do it.”
Jenna’s right there in a second.
“Watch it,” she snaps. “Don’t make it worse.”
“It’s a clean pass-through,” the medic says. “He’s not dying.”
That doesn’t calm her.
She hovers anyway.
I don’t stay on it long.
Not my focus.
“Cesario.”
He steps forward immediately, already working, tablet in hand.
“We’re pulling everything,” he says. “Identifying who we lost, who made it out, what’s still in play.”
“How many?” I cut in.
A beat.
“Too many.”
My jaw tightens.
“That’s not a number.”
“It’s the truth,” he says, steady. “They hit us hard. Whoever they were—they knew how to move.”
Yeah.
I saw that.
“Talk,” I say. “What the fuck do westill have?”
“Most of the product was already separated before the breach,” he says quickly. “High-value assets were secured.”
Good.
At least something didn’t go to shit.
“But we lost control of the floor,” he adds. “Some girls scattered in the chaos. We’re still confirming who’s missing.”
I take a slow step toward him.
