Page 118 of Desperate Crimes
On cue, Sofia, Destiny, and my mother shift toward the deep leather couch lining the wall. They settle in gracefully, but Leanna doesn’t move.
She stands frozen beside me, unsure if she’s part of this world or simply watching it unravel.
I squeeze her hand.
Not as a show of power—but as a promise.
I’m here. With you.
I feel her jolt of surprise, the rapid beat of her pulse under my thumb.
She’s confused.
Torn.
And it kills me not to be able to explain everything to her right now. But that time will come.
First, I have to win.
There’s a knock.
Marat opens the door, and the cavalry enters—exactly as planned.
Sammy Ramirez strides in first, sharp in a navy suit, his father Andres behind him like a shadow cast in flesh. Josef Aziz follows, flanked by my uncles Angel and Luc, both oozing the kind of weight and gravitas only blood and battle can buy.
The room stiffens.
This is no longer a family gathering.
It’s a boardroom in disguise.
Sammy takes his place beside me, sliding a leather folio onto the polished table.
“Caas signed over the Southeast Asian rights this morning. To me,” I announce.
Calm. Precise. A blade in motion.
Adrik’s eyes flicker. “I thought he was stalling.”
“He was.” I flash a cold smile. “Until we reminded him what happens to men who double-deal.”
Josef chuckles under his breath. Luc doesn’t bother hiding his grin.
“He didn’t want to sign,” Sammy adds. “But when you own a man’s secrets—when you hold the receipts—he tends to rethink his position.”
My father raises a brow, impressed. “You moved fast.”
“I moved clean,” I correct him. “We now control the majority of transit and export through the disputed ports in Binh Duong, Cebu, and Jakarta. All legally, all traceable, all documented.”
I tap the folder Sammy just placed on the table. “And with the blessing of three local governments.”
I look directly at Adrik.
“What I’m proposing is a full merger of Viper Enterprises’ international logistics division with Volkov Industries’ rare-earth commodities network. A partnership. Legitimate. Long-term. Ironclad.”
Adrik leans back in his chair, stroking his chin.
Leanna is quiet, but her posture has changed.
