By eight in the morning, Lawson Customs was already full, and for the first time since the harbour, I allowed myself to believe that Victor had not managed to break us.
Motorcycles filled the parking lot, customers stood around the reception area, and the sound of engines echoed through the workshop as Ben, Aiden, and the other mechanics moved from one job to another.
The phones had barely stopped ringing and every appointment slot for the next two weeks was booked.
I stood near the office doorway with my coffee in one hand while I watched the team work, and although exhaustion sat heavily behind my eyes, something warm settled in my chest.
This was my business. These were my people.
Victor could send men after us, plant trackers, manipulate employees, and turn our lives upside down,
