Lucas walked through the market like he owned it—casual, unbothered, golden eyes scanning every stall, every trader, every deal happening around them.
Ava kept close, listening carefully as his voice dropped into something lower, sharper.
"Had a shipment hit last week." His fingers trailed along a stack of sealed supply crates, eyes flicking to their markings. "Standard trade run. Military stock. Delivered clean."
Ava glanced at him. "And then?"
Lucas chuckled, but there was no humor in it. "Then someone took it."
Ava's brows furrowed. "Before or after payment?"
Lucas's jaw ticked. "After."
Ava's stomach twisted. "So the cargo was stolen after it was delivered?"
Lucas nodded once. "Disappeared before it could be distributed. Neat, efficient. Almost like it was planned."
Ava's mind raced. "That's… bold."
"Bold is one word for it." Lucas reached out, casually flipping over a crate tag, reading the faded numbers like they meant something.
