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Isabeast turned back to me.

“Yes. The men who know where their future lies.”

“And who do they answer to?”

Her smile widened.

“Me.”

Ciro stopped smiling.

The camera operator’s hands paused above the keyboard. The guard near the door cut his eyes toward Ciro. Mateo stayed focused on her, but the muscles in his forearms tightened.

I leaned back as far as the chair allowed.

“Hear that, Delgado? She’s already dividing up your empire while you’re drinking rum and smoking cigars on the veranda.”

Isabeast turned on me.

“Shut your mouth.”

Ciro crossed the room in two strides.

His hand closed around her throat.

She barely had time to gasp before he hauled her off my thigh and threw her toward Mateo. Her shoulder struck his chest, and he caught her before she hit the floor.

Ciro stepped back beside the camera.

“Marcela Reyes.”

She froze inside Mateo’s hold.

“That is who you are without me.”

Her face drained of color.

“I gave you the Delgado name. I gave you New York. The bank accounts. The men who opened doors because they believed you belonged to me.”

His gaze moved to Mateo.

“I gave you him.”

The muscle in Mateo’s jaw jumped.

Ciro looked back at Marcela.

“Lachlan Byrnes is my hostage. Mateo Cruz is my soldier. Every man in this compound eats because I permit it.”

She pulled free from Mateo and straightened.

“You needed me. You’ve enjoyed having me exactly as you wanted, and I’ve served you well. You gave him to me as an indulgence.” She gestured at me.

“I found you useful,” Ciro sneered. “Do not confuse usefulness with power.”

Her hands curled into fists.

“You gave me your name and access. I made the Delgado name powerful in rooms you could never enter yourself. I built relationships you couldn’t have bought, threatened, or reached without me, then turned them into an empire. Don’t stand there now and tell me I was merely useful.”