Agent Ramirez, the lead, leaned forward. You want to tell me what you were doing in the mountains the night the Wolf family property exploded? Driving? I replied. He smirked. You expect us to believe that? I don’t expect you to believe anything. He leaned in. We found seven men tortured, crippled, burned, two dead. We found recordings on a hidden drive in Victor’s house. They show everything.
The attack on your wife, the cover-ups, the trafficking. You’re not a suspect anymore, Hunter. You’re a witness. That threw me. Ramirez opened a file and slid a photo across the table. It was Victor in a hospital bed, heavily bandaged, skin grafts climbing up his face. His eyes were open, glassy, aware enough to hate.
He refused to name anyone,” Ramirez said. Claimed he fell victim to an electrical accident. “But with everything we found, his empire’s over. He’ll never see sunlight again.” “What about his sons?” Ramirez shrugged. “The surviving five are facing charges that’ll bury them for life.” “That’s justice, Wolf. You got it.” I stared at the photo for a long moment.
