The sun was bright outside the courthouse. It felt wrong. After the darkness of the courtroom, the light was too much. I stood on the top step and pulled out my phone. My fingers were steady, but my mind was racing. I dialed Sasha’s number. She picked up on the second ring."He’s free," I said. I didn't say hello. I didn't have the energy for it. "The judge signed the order. Your brother is walking out of processing in an hour.""I know," Sasha said. Her voice was flat. There was no joy in it. No relief. "I have people watching the gates.""I expect the coordinates, Sasha. We had a deal. I got your brother out of a federal cage. Now give me the Hastings.""The deal is done, Thiago," she replied. "Check your encrypted mail. The file is there. Everything I have on the Mercer yacht and the safehouse locations. We are even.""You don't sound happy," I said. "You spent years trying to fix this. Don't you want to see him?""I've seen enough of James for one lifetime," she said. Her voice dr

The black SUV screeched to a halt in front of the narrow alleyway in Harlem. I didn’t wait for Kael to open the door. I was out and moving before the engine had even cut off. Behind me, four of my security men tumbled out of the chase vehicle, their hands hovering near their jackets. They looked like shadows in the dim streetlights."Stay sharp," I told them. "If anyone moves inside, pin them. I want Sasha alive.""Understood, sir," Kael said. He moved to the front of the group, his face a mask of professional focus.We reached the entrance to The Blue Note. The heavy steel door that had been guarded by a giant of a man only a few days ago was now slightly ajar. It swung back and forth in the wind, the metal hinges letting out a slow, rhythmic groan. I pushed it open with my foot, my heart hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs.I expected the smell of gin and expensive smoke. I expected the low, mournful sound of the piano. Instead, the air was cold and dead. It smelled like dust

The map on the digital table was a glowing green skeleton of the Mercer estate. It sat on a jagged piece of coastline, surrounded by water on three sides and a ten-foot stone wall on the fourth. It was a beautiful place, the kind of place people go to feel untouchable. I stood over it, my hands pressed against the edge of the table."Mercer doesn't use standard security," Kael said. He pointed to several red dots moving along the perimeter. "These aren't just guards. They’re ex-military contractors. They carry heavy gear, and they don't ask for identification before they shoot.""I don't care what they carry," I said. "Sasha said the north gate guards were paid. Is that confirmed?"Kael nodded. "Julian intercepted a wire transfer an hour ago. Two of the men on the midnight shift just got a very large deposit in a Cayman account. They’ll pull the sensors on the north fence for exactly ten minutes. If we aren't through by then, the backup generators will kick in and the whole place will

The safehouse was a concrete box hidden beneath a nondescript warehouse in the industrial district. There were no windows. There were no soft edges. The walls were painted a flat, sterile grey that soaked up the light. I had designed this place myself. It was a replica of the cell I had occupied in Iron-Gate, right down to the humming of the fluorescent lights and the heavy, airless silence.Kael and his men dropped Henry and Bernadette into two metal chairs bolted to the floor. They ripped the hoods off their heads.Bernadette blinked rapidly, squinting against the harsh glare of the overhead bulbs. Her makeup was smeared. Her hair, usually perfect, was a tangled mess. She looked around the room, her chest heaving. Henry was shaking so hard the metal chair rattled against the bolts."Where are we?" Henry croaked. He looked at the heavy steel door. "Thiago, listen. This is kidnapping. You can't do this. We have rights."I didn't answer. I pulled a wooden stool across the floor. The sc