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“And the man managing the guards who answer directly to her.”

“They all answer to Father.”

“Not anymore.”

The words landed hard.

Rafael lowered his voice. “Marcela pays better than Ciro does. Cash, watches, women, promotions. A few of the men get her attention in bed and confuse that with power. Mateo doesn’t need to sleep with her. He wants what she’ll give him if she rises above your father.”

“She’s building her own faction inside his own compound?”

“Yes.” Tension pulled at his face, making him look older than he had moments before. His gaze shifted past me, checking the doorway again.

“And Father doesn’t see it?”

“Your father believes every man here belongs to him because his name is on the payroll.” Rafael’s mouth tightened. “Marcela understands that loyalty can be purchased more than once.”

I thought of the satisfaction in her voice when she called Lachlan her pet. She wasn’t waiting for Father to give her power. She was taking it out from under his nose.

“How many men are loyal to her?”

“I don’t know yet. Enough to make any escape more dangerous.”

Fear sent a chill down my spine, but I forced myself to focus and get what answers I could before we were interrupted. “What about the old drainage route?”

“It’s still your best chance.” Rafael moved closer. “Use the servant stairway to reach the lower storage rooms. From there, take the utility corridor south. Don’t cross the western loading yard. Mateo just had another camera installed above the service doors.”

“Good to know.”

“I may disagree with what you’re doing, but I’ll always do what I can to protect you.” His voice softened. “The old drainage channel beneath the south retaining wall is still open. Once you’re through it, follow the ravine downhill and stay away from the road. The dogs have been moved closer to the eastern track at night.”

“How are the coffee rows?”

“Use them for cover after you clear the ravine. The banana grove offers better cover, but the undergrowth is thicker and will slow you down.”

Most of the route was familiar. My mother had taught it to me in pieces, disguising survival lessons as games while guards followed us through the gardens and the surrounding forest. Rafael was telling me what had changed since then to help keep me safe.

“I’ll try to create a distraction when you’re ready,” Rafael said. “But I can’t promise what it will look like yet. Things are too volatile. One disturbance could empty a corridor or fill it with armed guards.”

“How will I get the key?”

“Before dinner, I’ll put the key in a fake sardine tin at the back of the lowest pantry shelf.”

I pictured the pantry, and the shelves packed with tins, sacks, and jars. I could reach it easily enough, but walking into the kitchen without a reason would draw attention.

Rafael must’ve followed my thoughts. “Offer to finish the tres leches yourself before it’s served.”

“I already finished it.”

“Finish the topping. Tell them you want to whip the cream and slice the strawberries at the last minute so everything stays fresh. Then offer to carry the cake into the dining room yourself.”

The kitchen women wouldn’t question that. They’d already seen how determined I was to make Father’s favorite dessert perfect.

“I can say I need vanilla and sugar from the pantry for the cream.”

“Exactly. Take the key, finish the cake, and behave as though nothing has changed. Keep your emotions under control and make sure you’re not caught with it.”

“What about Lachlan?” I asked. “Can you protect him until there’s a diversion big enough for us to run?”