The darkness of the sealed ancestral tunnel smelled of wet limestone, stagnant river silt, and decades of forgotten dust. My penlight cut a narrow, trembling beam through the damp air, illuminating the dirt-streaked face of Nora Bennett. Her chest heaved, her knuckles raw and bleeding where we had wrenched the mortar from the brickwork.

Before Thomas’s fingers could wrap around the grip of his pistol, Nora moved with blinding speed. She lunged across the room, slamming her shoulder directly into his chest and driving him backward into a heavy oak bookcase.

The glass frame shattered, and books cascaded across the floor as Thomas grunted in pain, his scotch glass flying from his hand and smashing against the baseboard.

“You bitch!” Thomas snarled, catching Nora by the collar and attempting to draw his weapon with his free hand.

I vaulted over the desk, grabbing a heavy brass paperweight and bringing it down hard against Thomas’s wrist. The pistol clattered across the parquet floor, sliding under the sofa. Thomas screamed, clutching his bruised wrist while stumbling back against the wall, his perfect political facade completely shattered.

“Look at you,” I panted, standing over him, my knuckles white. “Selling out the city, covering for cartels, murdering girls like Elena to protect your campaign funds.”

“You built this empire on blood, Mateo!” Thomas screamed back, his face red with rage and terror, spattering blood from a split lip. “I just figured out how to monetize it! You think the politicians upstairs care about a few shipping crates? They care about winning elections! And you just handed me the final piece of leverage I needed to take the governor’s seat!”

He suddenly lunged toward the panic button mounted beneath the edge of his mahogany desk.

I didn't hesitate. I tackled him to the floor, pinning his shoulders to the rug just as the download progress bar on the monitor flashed a bright, beautiful green: DOWNLOAD COMPLETE. 100% SUCCESS.

I pulled the encrypted flash drive from the terminal, pocketed it, and stood up, looking down at my cousin with utter contempt.

“The download didn't just go to our drive, Thomas,” I said coldly. “It automatically mirrored to every major independent news network and federal watchdog agency in the country. By the time security breaks down that door, your career, your campaign, and your freedom are already history.”