The moment James Rodriguez stepped from the helicopter, the clearing's tension crystallized into something more volatile than mere corporate conflict. Alex felt Sonia's hand tighten in his—a silent warning, a moment of connection that transcended the chaos surrounding them.
"Brother," James called, his voice carrying a sardonic edge that had haunted their relationship since childhood, "always the romantic hero, aren't you?"
Geneva's eyes flickered between her sons, calculation replacing maternal warmth. "James. I wasn't expecting your... intervention."
"Of course not," James replied, producing an identification badge that glinted in the morning light. "Interpol's Financial Crimes Division doesn't typically announce its operations in advance."
Alex pulled Sonia slightly behind him,
