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“Evidence doesn’t belong to the men it condemns.”

“Those records implicate men who control banks, corporations, foundations, and governments.”

“And the women and girls those men bought, sold, and buried,” Lachlan said. “They’re the reason those records matter to The Syndicate.”

The words reached deeper than any of his curses.

He wasn’t only defending the woman he called Lacey. He was defending every woman my father had tried to sell through his club, even those whose suffering had been reduced to evidence and whose names Lachlan might never know.

“What has Volkov learned from the Madrid files?” my father asked.

“Enough to make you afraid of what he knows.”

“Tell me which names Volkov has connected, where the money and companies lead, and who else has seen what he uncovered, and I’ll spare you the worst of what comes next.”

A ragged laugh echoed through the shaft. “Are you serious? You think I’ll just tell you what you want to know?”

“You’ll answer,” my father said calmly. “The only question is how much pain it’ll take before betraying The Syndicate becomes easier than protecting your brothers.”

“Then settle in, Delgado. I’ve always been shit at betrayal, and pain’s never motivated me.”

A blow landed with a flat, brutal thud, and Lachlan’s breath broke around a curse.

My fingers curled around the edge of the stool.

“Pain motivates everyone,” my father said. “It works faster on some than others, but it always loosens the tongue. You’re enduring it because you believe Volkov will come for you.”

“He will.”

“He may make an effort. That doesn’t mean he’ll risk everything he’s built to recover a single captain. Men like Volkov protect their power first.”

“Obviously, you understand nothing about the man.”

“Volkov helped destroy his own father and took control of the Russian bratva Viktor left behind,” Father said. “He understands that blood is negotiable when power is at stake. A man willing to turn on his own father won’t sacrifice an empire for you.”

“Viktor ruled through fear.” His next words came out in a growl. “Nik rules because men choose him. That’s why you’re too small-minded to understand what brotherhood means.”

“Fear and loyalty produce the same obedience.”

“No. Fear is why your men will run the moment you start losing. Your—”

A harsh blow connected, cutting his next words off. Another followed before he could recover, his breath rasping in and out unevenly.

Several seconds passed before he spoke again.

“Tell your lad to put his hips into it,” he snarled. “He’s embarrassing himself.”

“I’ve already won, Byrnes,” my father said.

Lachlan cleared his throat. “That so?”

“If The Syndicate stops acting on the evidence from Madrid, stops interfering with the flesh trade, and leaves my routes and allies untouched, you remain alive.”

“And if they don’t?”

“They’ll receive proof that I have you alive. After that, every name they leak, account they freeze, property they raid, or associate they kill will cost you something—a hand, an eye, an ear.” Father chuckled. “It’s interesting how many body parts a man can live without.”

Lachlan huffed. “They won’t leave women in cages to keep me breathing.”