Page 72 of Dark Reunion

CHAPTER 27

DEAN

The compound had its own rhythm, like a heartbeat. By nightfall, the sounds softened, but it was never quiet. The hum of insects, the scrape of boots on gravel as guards traded shifts, and the sound of vehicles in the distance filled the air. Dean sat on the edge of the bed in his suit pants and undershirt, tie discarded, hands pressed together like he was praying, but he doubted God would ever listen to a word he had to say.

The room smelled faintly of Yasmine’s shampoo and body wash, which helped relax his tight muscles and the worry picking at his brain. She was asleep with Andrés curled against her. They looked like they belonged anywhere but here. Dean let himself watch for a moment longer, memorizing the shapes of their faces in the dim light. Then he stood, changed into his black jeans and long-sleeve shirt, slid into his jacket, and walked quietly to the door.

A folded scrap of paper peeked out from under the door, so faintly marked it would’ve looked like garbage to anyone else. Dean picked it up, unfolded it, and saw the crude circle inked in the center. Ricco’s mark. The meeting was a go.

“No one goes in for any reason but me. If my father tries to go into the room, call me,” I ordered the guard outside the door. He’d learned that his name was Samual. He had been one of the people Ricco recommended as a personal guard for Yasmine and the kids.

Samual nodded and stepped in front of the door.

Dean moved like a shadow through the compound, past the kitchen where servants scrubbed pots, down to the lower levels where the concrete walls bled damp and whispered secrets.

Ricco was waiting by a supply room, leaning casually against the doorframe, smoke curling up from the cigarette dangling from his mouth. Every meeting had been in a different location.

“Is Maeve here yet?”

“Inside,” Ricco murmured, voice low.

Dean stepped into the stale heat of the room, but no one else was in here. Dean’s eyes darted around as if expecting people to jump out of the stone walls. There was another door at the back that opened into an expansive space.

What the hell did his father do with all these underground spaces?

A couple dozen figures stood waiting, all faces that Dean and grown to know by sight. Guards, kitchen staff, and even one of the mechanics. All wore the same expression…wary, haunted, and desperate. At the very back of the room, Maeve leaned against the wall like she had become one with the darkness.

His eyes swept over them all, measuring. People who had been forced to bend to Carlos Ramírez’s will were one slip away from being buried.

“Why are we here, Mercurio?” one of the men asked. His voice had an edge, like he’d already decided this was a mistake.

Dean didn’t flinch at the name. “You’re here because you’ve all bled for a man who’ll never bleed for you. You’ve all seen it. He treats loyalty like a joke, and when he’s finished with you, he’ll feed you to the dirt.”

A ripple of movement started like they were worried the walls had ears. Some shifted uneasily, others nodded faintly, while some looked around the room.

“Ricco says that you’re different, that you can be trusted. Is that true?” the man pressed. He was broad, scarred across the jaw, and his fists twitched like he was ready for a fight. “Because what I see is a killer born from a killer.”

Dean stepped closer, his voice like steel. “I’ve killed. More than I can count. But I take no joy in that. I didn’t kill because someone looked at me wrong. I didn’t kill children. I didn’t kill women who said no. And I didn’t kill to watch the light go out of a man’s eyes for fun. Every bullet I put into someone was because they earned it. Terrorists. Rapists. Butchers. The kind of monsters my father chooses to emulate and covets.”

The room stilled. A woman in the back crossed herself.

Dean kept going, voice low but clear. “Carlos wants you to believe fear is the only type of loyalty that matters. That the only way to survive is to crawl. That’s a lie. I don’t want your fear. I want your eyes open. Because when the time comes and his walls crumble, and they will, you need to decide if you’ll die protecting him, or if you’ll fight to live free.”

Someone muttered, “And what makes you think we can win?”

Dean’s jaw tightened. “Because I don’t hide behind walls while others bleed for me. I was a soldier before he dragged me back here. I know what it means to lead from the front. From the moment I arrived, I’ve been planning to free all of you. I can promise that I’ll bleed with you. That’s the difference.”

For a beat, no one moved. Then Ricco stepped forward, smirk sharp as ever. “He’s telling the truth. I’ve seen him. He’s not his old man. He’s worse, in the ways that matter, the ways we need, the ways that will finally give us our freedom.”

The mood shifted. Heads nodded. A pact wasn’t made, but the seed was planted.

“The time is coming, it could be within a few days or a couple of weeks, but when the moment arises, you will need to make the choice. Servitude or freewill. I hope you will choose the second.”

“But what will we do for work with Carlos gone? It’s fine to say you’ll free us, but for what? It may not be much, but the money I make feeds my family,” a man said, and Dean nodded.

“I have already thought of that. All those who choose to side with me will be taken care of. New jobs, but they come with safety. I can’t give you all the details right now, but I assure you that I understand your fears. I also understand that your worries are for more than your bodily harm. I have lived off no food, little water, and watched my friends die around me. I know what it is to fight, struggle, and feel like every day is a battle for survival. I will not abandon you. No one gets left behind,” Dean declared, and a soft hush fell on everyone.

An older woman whom Dean recognized immediately stepped to the front of the crowd. She had been working here since he was a little boy. Time had put lines on her face, but there was a strength in her stare.