But not alone.
Different men.
Different countries.
Different operations.
My stomach turned colder with every image.
“This isn’t revenge anymore,” Rooksaid quietly.
No.
It was bigger than that.
A lot bigger.
Rook slid one photograph across the table toward us.
A younger Mercer.
Standing beside armed men near shipping containers.
Children visible in the background.
Flick inhaled sharply.
“Oh my God…”
“The senator’s son wasn’t just laundering cartel money,” Rook continued calmly. “He was helping move human cargo across borders.”
Rage exploded hot inside my chest instantly.
The same kind of rage I felt in Juárez.
The kind that made men dangerous.
“He inherited the operation after Juárez,” Rook continued. “Mercer buried it politically and expanded it privately.”
Wolf’s expression darkened.
“How long?”
“Years.”
Trigger stared at the file.
“So Mercer basically turned himself into a cartel with better lawyers.”
“More or less.”
Ava looked sick now.
“Why wasn’t he stopped?”
Rook’s eyes lifted slowly.
“Because people inside federal systems protect him.”
