Gray sighed. "Supervising, huh? I thought you had everything under control with your… subtle methods." He waved vaguely toward the warehouse, where the faint groans of the traffickers still echoed. "But go on, dazzle me. Show me your genius at work. Maybe I'll find a reason to stay awake."
Libel shot him a smirk. She spun on her heel and headed back into the warehouse. Gray followed reluctantly. Rain drummed on the roof, seeping through cracks to drip into uneven puddles on the floor.
Inside, the gang leader struggled to his feet, his eyes darting nervously between Libel and Gray. The other survivors—a ragged handful of men—huddled in a corner, their gazes flickering between fear and resignation.
