“Sir! Attackers have targeted the warehouse near the dock!" Brixton stood up from his seat, clenching his hand into a fist.
“What did you say?! Who did it?!” he yelled, cursing loudly.
“We haven’t identified them yet, sir. They were wearing masks, but most of them were wolves,” he replied.
“F*ck!”
The storm clouds beyond his penthouse window made Brixton feel as gloomy as they did. Learning of the warehouse attack completely destroyed his sense of control. With a glass of whiskey gripped firmly in his hand, he paced back and forth, his mind buzzing with suspicion and rage. He needed the warehouse for his work; thus, it was unacceptable that it would be targeted.
His phone buzzed on the table, and he snatched it up, glancing at the caller ID before answering.
"Maddox, get back here. N
