Nathan's grip tightened around his weapon, heart pounding as the two men shifted slightly on the porch. Their relaxed stance was a mask—one he recognized too well.
The taller man, impeccably dressed, gave a slight smile, though it didn't reach his eyes.
"Mr. West. Miss Madison. We're here to talk."
Nathan's jaw clenched. "Who the hell are you?"
The shorter man, older with sharp gray eyes, raised his hands, palms up in a disarming gesture. "Our employer sent us. We need to discuss Grayson's… mishandling of recent events."
Morrison moved closer, keeping her pistol steady. Her voice was low, deadly calm. "Are you with Rise?"
The taller man's smile remained fixed. "Names are irrelevant. What matters is resolving unfinished business."
Henry stepped forward, body tense, voice a growl. "Business? Grayson tried to kill us. He almost succeeded."