Reaching the shop, Liam saw that the damage was far more extensive than the partially destroyed signboard he'd noticed from a distance. The wooden door hung askew on broken hinges, one side completely torn from its frame. Splinters littered the entrance like the remnants of an explosion. Through the damaged doorway, the interior looked like a warzone—overturned furniture, scattered debris, and the unmistakable signs of violence.
Liam stood motionless on the street, staring at the destruction. His jaw tightened as he processed what he was seeing. The worst-case scenario he'd been trying not to imagine was playing out before his eyes.
Guilt settled over him like a physical weight pressing down on his shoulders. This was his fault. The assassins had come here because of him. They'd targeted Master Han specifically because of the connection between them.
