The bounty was impressive.
Ten million credits for confirmed proof of my son’s location. Another fifteen if delivered alive. They didn’t even bother hiding their intent behind coded language anymore.
I sat alone in my private observation lounge, the monitors glowing softly around me. Justin’s room was displayed on the central screen. He hadn’t slept. He simply stared at the ceiling, jaw tight, body still semi-hard from the way I had left him earlier. Even restrained and poisoned, he looked like a weapon waiting to be unleashed.
I should have felt triumph.
Instead, old ghosts clawed their way up my throat.
Three years ago, I had been soft.
I had been stupid.
I remembered the night everything shattered with painful clarity. The grand palace ballroom glittering with chandeliers and pol
