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“Then they’ll come for you, exactly as you claim.” My father’s voice remained calm. “Nothing enters El Salvador without my men knowing. Not a private aircraft. Not a foreign security team. Not a convoy crossing the border or a boat showing up on its shores. Anyone inside this country who helps Volkov will expose himself as disloyal to me.”

“That’s your play?” Lachlan scoffed. “Use me to flush out anyone willing to help Nik?”

“Every asshole who lifts a finger to help Volkov will get it cut off. I’ll eliminate them while he shows me the full extent of his capabilities.” Father sucked on his teeth. “If he obeys, I protect my interests. If he attempts a rescue, I identify his assets and everyone in El Salvador willing to serve him.”

Lachlan pulled in a strained breath.

“Keep me alive, and you give Nik time. Kill me, and you lose your leverage.”

“You mistake time for an advantage. Your brotherhood makes you predictable. Threaten one of you, and the others risk everything they’ve built.”

“Aye,” Lachlan rasped. “They’ll risk all of it to come for you.”

“You’re collateral, Byrnes. You’ll live as long as The Syndicate bows to my terms.”

Lachlan gave no answer.

“You’ll look into a camera and tell Volkov you’re alive. Then you’ll explain what he must do to keep you that way.”

“Give me a camera, and I’ll tell him to release every name in those files and burn whatever’s left of your empire.”

My father ignored the threat.

“You’ll be presentable for the recording, but that doesn’t mean your time here will be painless.” His voice hardened. “Left thigh. Stay away from the knee.”

Something cut through the air with a low whistle.

The strike landed with a sharp crack, wrenching a loud grunt from Lachlan. Metal rattled once, then only his labored breathing reached the grate.

“What will you tell Volkov?” Father asked.

“That you need me alive more than I need you dead.”

“Again,” Father ordered.

The same low whistle cut through the room. A sharp crack followed, and a choked shout tore from Lachlan before he forced it silent. Afterward, only uneven breaths reached the grate.

Father waited until they eased.

“That recording is the only reason you’re still breathing.”

The dungeon door opened.

Sharp heels clicked across the concrete, each step tightening the knot in my chest.

“He’d better be awake and in good enough condition for me to work with,” Marcela said.

My spine locked. It had been a long time since I’d heard that lecherous voice.

“He’s conscious,” Father answered.

“You promised that when he stopped being useful to you, he’d be mine until I was done with him.”

“His usefulness is ongoing, but he’s yours to play with. Don’t damage his face, and keep him able to walk.”

“That’s fine. I look forward to a long-term project.” Her heels tapped across the concrete, then stopped. “Hold his head up. I want to see my pet’s face.”

“A few tears and a quivering voice were all it took,” Marcela said. “You were so desperate to be the honorable hero that you walked straight into my trap. Imagine what I can make of that weakness once I train you properly.”