The office door slammed so hard that the glass shelves rattled. "Maldición!" Don Marcelo swept the glass of tequila off his desk. It shattered against the wall. Amber liquid splashed across expensive wood and polished marble. Nobody entered. Nobody dared. The guards outside heard the crash and immediately looked away. Because everyone knew what it meant. Marcelo was furious, truly furious. Not the calculated anger he showed rivals. Not the cold rage he weaponized against enemies. This was different... it was personal and raw. Humiliating even. For years he had planned, he had waited... for years he had watched Thiago Andreas from a distance. Patiently and carefully, like a hunter watching his prey. And now, when victory was finally within reach... his idiot son had managed to get himself captured. Marcelo cursed again. Louder this time. The sound echoed through the room. He grabbed the edge of the desk and lowered his head. His breathing was

The following morning arrived without ceremony. The sun rose over northern Mexico, casting long golden streaks across the desert. It was a beautiful morning. A cruelly beautiful one. Because by sunset, someone would either be reunited with their family... Or buried. Thiago Andreas had not slept. Neither had Raphael nor Emiliano. The Andreas estate had been awake all night, transforming itself into something less like a family home and more like a military command center. Satellite images covered one wall, weapons were laid out across another table. Bulletproof SUVs waited outside, engines already running. Every trusted man Thiago had ever relied upon stood ready, no one smiled. No one joked, they all understood the assignment. Bring Juliana home, no matter the cost. Raphael adjusted the magazine of his pistol before sliding it into the holster beneath his jacket. His movements were calm. Too calm. Emiliano noticed. "You've been quiet." Raphael loo