Raize stopped thirty yards away from Estrada, but Cavers came forward and dropped the bag at Estrada’s feet. Then he bent over and unzipped it, spreading the sides so Estrada could see what was in there.

After he’d had a look, Cavers picked the bag up and returned to stand beside Raize.

Jake moved out until he had a clear line on me—or on the guy holding my arm.

“Raize.” Estrada put his hands in his suit pockets, the epitome of calm and confident. “It’s been a long time.”

Raize’s eyes went to mine, held, and then he blinked, the same cold, dead look on his face.

He focused on Estrada. “Give her to me.”

“Who is she to you?”

“None of your business.”

“That makes me want to know even more.” He glanced around. “I’m surprised at you. You brought only two men? That doesn’t seem like the Raize I knew.” He gestured around. “I’ve learned from you. Picked this place on purpose—didn’t want you to have a sniper anywhere within range.” He sounded smug.

Raize smirked. “Right.”

Abram jerked where he stood, and the guy holding my arm tightened his grip, just a reflex before loosening. These guys were on edge.

“I want my employee.”

“For what? What’s she worth to you?”

Raize’s eyes narrowed. “My man showed you the bag of money. A trade.”

“I don’t need money. Give me something I need.” Estrada’s hand returned to his pocket. He turned, standing so he could see me as well as Raize. He looked between us. “I know you know I didn’t send Macca. Oscar shouldn’t have moved on my behalf, but then again, you made sure to create a job opening for yourself, didn’t you? Oscar’s family will be displeased with you, displeased with your boss.”

Raize’s tone was even, almost monotone. “I’ll pass along that message.”

“You wanted a meet. Let’s have the meet now, and if I decide to take you up on your offer,” Estrada looked my way, analyzing me, “you can have your woman back. She killed one of my men. Did you know that?”

Raize didn’t react, but Cavers’ head moved back a centimeter and Jake’s hands flexed, forming fists.

“Interesting,” Estrada remarked. “You’ve never given much away, but now you’re worse.”

“You still want me dead?”

“Of course.” Estrada flashed a smile, and that seemed the most genuine thing he’d said. “But you know me. Business is business. You took out one of my men, and you knew Oscar ran his own women. That wasn’t part of my business. I’m assuming you’ve been sent to offer your employer to take Oscar’s place? He was my distributor into the US. That’s the whole reason for your trip south. Am I correct?”

“You are. My boss would like to offer distribution starting here and extending toward the northeast in the US.”

“But we already have distributors there. Why would we need more?”

Cavers frowned. Jake’s eyes narrowed again.

“As of this morning, you don’t,” Raize said.

Estrada’s face jerked back toward Raize, and his entire body stiffened. “What?”

“You employed the 63rds. You don’t anymore.”

Estrada’s mouth thinned. “Do I want to ask what happened to them?”

“They’re dead.”

A dark cloud formed over Estrada. He lowered his head. “I don’t do business like this. I won’t be forced into an alliance. You know this, better than anyone.”

Raize moved for the first time. He turned to Cavers and Jake. “Go back to the car. Drive away.”

“Boss—” Jake started to protest.

Not Cavers. He dropped the bag and started for the car immediately.

“Go.” Raize’s tone was calm.

Jake swung his eyes my way, alarmed, but he did as he was told.

Estrada watched as both men got in the car and waited until the car had turned around. “Even more interesting. What are you setting up here, Raize?”

“I’m here on behalf of Roman Marakov.”

I tensed, that name shredding my nerves.

The Marakov family ran the Russian mafia in Philadelphia, but over the last year they’d been expanding. I’d been a peon on the streets for them before I was sold to Bronski, and I knew the entire family worked together. Roman was the youngest of the brothers. There were three in total. Maxim was the oldest. Igor was the second. Roman was the only one my sister said she’d met, before she was taken.

“He’s nice,” she’d told me.

I’d snorted. “He’s mafia. This is dangerous. What are you doing?”

“Leo trusts them. He works for them. He says he’s going to go places.”

“Leo works for Igor, doesn’t he?”

“Yeah, but he wants to work for Roman. He says Roman is going to go places, and he’s the one not to underestimate. And by the way, you’re not supposed to know any of this. Don’t say a word or they could kill us both.”

A week later, she was gone.

Carloni worked for Igor.

Brooke’s boyfriend worked for Igor.

I had no clue how she met Roman.

I knew Raize worked for one of the brothers. I’d assumed it was Igor since he was the one running Philadelphia, but hearing this now… What did it mean? Did it mean something?

“I’m assuming you still want me dead,” Raize noted. “That’s fine, but before you take your shot, Roman is aware that you’ve been trying to get into Russia with your product. He is offering this to you. Work with him here in Texas. He’ll help distribute your product on the eastern side of the US, and you can expand into Russia.”

“Russian mafia doesn’t like the cartel.”

“This Russian mafia does.”

“Why, Raize? I’m aware of Roman Marakov’s reputation, and he doesn’t strike me as someone who needs me. What is he getting from this partnership?”

“He wants the 63rds out of business permanently. They’re too reckless and dangerous for the United States. They kill too many innocents, and it’s bad for business. They can’t expand if the 63rds continue to work in the US.”

“All of this was sent to get rid of the 63rds?”

“This was done so that further war wasn’t waged when the 63rds were taken out, and so he’s got a powerful partnership for expanding into Mexico. You work with the Colombians and you have a strong tie in Bolivia. That’s an alliance that helps him.”

“What’s the drawback?”

“You work with him, and him alone. Not his brothers.”

Roman Marakov was planning a takeover.

I got it then. All of it.

Well, almost all of it.

Wait. I had no idea, but that’s the only thing that made sense.

And that filled me with so much excitement, I wanted to do a TikTok dance. I didn’t know any. I didn’t have TikTok, but I wanted to log onto a computer somewhere and learn one.

That meant Igor Marakov would die.

Igor was on my list. He was the boss over Carloni, who was over Bronski, and I hated them all.

“Raize.”