Page 85 of High Reward

I meet his gaze steadily. “Maybe it’s partly that. But it’s also smart strategy. We pool information, resources, and connections. We present a unified response.”

“And if they won’t cooperate?” Matteo asks.

“Then we know where we stand.” I shrug. “Better to find out now than when we’re in the middle of a territory war.”

The three of them exchange glances, having one of those wordless conversations long-time partners can manage. I wait, letting them process.

“I’m in,” Luke says first. “I’ll call Jamie tonight.”

“Danny will want details,” Matteo says. “Guarantees of security. Neutral ground for the meeting.”

“We can host it here,” I suggest. “It might make them take us more seriously if we hold it in a place we view as sacred.”

Owen is the last to speak. “My contacts are more corporate than familial, but they have reach. Information networks. They’ll participate if the terms are right.”

I nod, relief mixing with determination. “I’ll contact my father. Tell him we’re handling it our way, not his.”

“He won’t like that,” Luke observes.

“No. He won’t.” The thought gives me a small bit of petty satisfaction. “But he’ll participate. He won’t risk being the only major player not at the table.”

“When?” Matteo asks.

“Soon. We need to move quickly, but we also need time to secure this location, set terms. And I want to get more information on Price first.”

“I’ll start making arrangements,” Owen says. “Get the security protocols established.”

“And Phineas?” Luke asks. “He’s still sitting in our warehouse. Still a loose end.”

“We keep him secure. He might have value as leverage. And we need to find out what he knows about the Russian connection.”

The meeting shifts into planning mode, each of us taking roles that have become second nature over years of partnership. Owen handling security and intelligence. Matteo managing family connections and diplomacy. Luke coordinating logistics for transporting everyone. Me providing insight gained from years of traveling between the US and Mexico for the cartel.

My father was wrong about at least one thing. These men are my family. Not by blood, but by choice. By trust earned through fire and danger. And together, we’re going to protect what we’ve built, no matter what it takes.

Later, I find Lili in our suite, propped against pillows on the king bed. Her arm is bandaged where Phineas cut her, bruisesfading from purple to yellow green along her collarbone. The doctor’s been keeping her medicated, but her eyes are clear when they meet mine. She sets aside the book she’s reading, marking her place with deliberate care.

“You look like hell,” she says by way of greeting.

“Been that kind of day.” I shut the door behind me, lock engaging with a soft click. The suite feels like a sanctuary after everything, the warehouse, my father, the strategy session with the others. Here, with her, I can breathe.

“Grace said you went to the house.” She shifts, making room for me beside her. “Find what you needed?”

“Found my father instead.”

Her eyebrows lift. “Your father? The head of the cartel?”

“The same.” I sit on the edge of the bed, careful not to jostle her injured arm. “He left guards at the house. For protection, he says.”

“And you believe that?”

“I believe he wants to know my every move.” I run a hand over my face, feeling the stubble I haven’t bothered to shave. “He had some interesting information. About the Russians. About Phineas.”

“Is that why you’ve been in Owen’s office for the last hour? Planning world domination with the boys?”

A small smile breaks through despite everything. “Something like that. We’re organizing a summit. Bringing our family connections together to address the Russian threat.”

Lili watches me carefully. She’s good at that—reading between my words, finding what I’m not saying. “I appreciate you sharing all of this. But there’s more, isn’t there? Something you’re not telling me.”