The Hamilton family banquet hall gleamed under the soft glow of crystal chandeliers, its mahogany walls adorned with portraits of stern-faced ancestors who seemed to judge every soul who entered their domain. The evening's anniversary celebration had drawn to a close, leaving only the echoes of forced laughter and the lingering scent of expensive wine.Max Sterling stood near the floor-to-ceiling windows, his reflection ghostlike against the dark Texas landscape beyond. Rebecca sat rigidly in her chair at the head table, her champagne glass untouched, her knuckles white as she gripped the stem."You can't be serious about this divorce nonsense," Rebecca finally broke the suffocating silence, her voice sharp enough to cut glass. "We've been married for five years, Max. Five years of building something together.""Building what exactly?" Max turned to face her, his eyes cold as winter steel. "A marriage where we sleep in separate rooms? Where we barely speak unless it's about business o

Max clutched the divorce settlement papers in his hand, the crisp legal documents representing his ticket to freedom. The numbers on the financial agreement were more generous than he'd dared hope—enough to start over completely, far from the Hamilton shadow.Finally, Max thought, a genuine smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. I'm actually getting out of here."Max, wait," Rebecca's voice was strained as she hurried to keep pace with his confident stride. "We should talk about this. About... everything.""What's left to talk about?" Max asked, not slowing his pace as they moved through the grand foyer. "The papers are signed, the settlement is agreed upon, and I leave for Meridian Border Station tomorrow morning. I'd say we've covered all the important points."Rebecca's heels clicked frantically against the marble floor as she struggled to match his determined gait. "We could have dinner tonight. Just the two of us. Maybe some wine, and we could—""No." Max's voice was firm, un

"I'm telling you, Martinez, that cartel stronghold shouldn't still be standing," Corporal Jake Thompson wiped sweat from his forehead with a dirty sleeve. "Three weeks now, and those bastards are dug in like ticks on a hound. Command's getting nervous.""Nervous enough to call in family representatives," Private Maria Santos added, her voice dripping with disdain. "Rich boy reinforcements coming to save the day."The cantina erupted in bitter laughter, the sound echoing off the corrugated metal roof."Speaking of rich boys," Sergeant Rodriguez leaned forward conspiratorially, "word is we're getting a Hamilton today. Not just any Hamilton either—some son-in-law nobody."Silver Caldwell sat at a corner table, her dark hair pulled back in a practical ponytail, her desert fatigues bearing the insignia of a station lieutenant. Her aide, Annie Chen, a sharp-eyed woman in her early thirties, nursed a cup of lukewarm coffee while studying the latest patrol reports."A Hamilton, huh?" Silver m

The pre-dawn darkness cloaked the eastern watchtower as Silver Caldwell and Annie Chen maintained their vigil, the desert air still carrying the coolness that would vanish within hours. Their voices were low, barely audible above the distant rumble of patrol vehicles returning from night reconnaissance."The cartel activity isn't decreasing," Silver said grimly, studying the latest intelligence reports by lamplight. "If anything, it's intensifying. Three more supply convoys intercepted this week, and our scouts report increased movement in the disputed zones."Annie's expression remained professionally neutral, but her grip tightened on her rifle. "How close are we to declaring it a Major Threat?""Too close," Silver admitted. "If the pattern continues for another two weeks, Command will have no choice. And when that happens...""The new personnel will panic," Annie finished. "Half of them look ready to bolt already.""Which is why we keep this between us for now," Silver said firmly.

The morning sun felt like hammers against Max's skull as he groaned awake in his quarters, his mouth tasting like he'd gargled desert sand mixed with regret. The empty whiskey bottle on his nightstand served as a brutal reminder of the previous evening's festivities with William and Silver Caldwell.What the hell happened last night? Max thought, pressing the heels of his palms against his temples. And how did I get back here?A cheerful knock at his door made him wince."Come in," Max croaked, his voice barely human.Jackson bounded in with his usual morning enthusiasm, carrying a steaming cup of coffee and what looked like military-grade aspirin."Good morning, sir! You look... well, you look like hell, actually," Jackson said with a grin, setting the coffee within Max's reach. "Rough night?""That's an understatement," Max mumbled, accepting the coffee gratefully. "How exactly did I get back here? The last thing I remember is William challenging me to a drinking contest.""Lieutena