Isabel POV
The footsteps grew louder. My pulse raced as I exchanged a glance with Miguel. Marissa raised her rifle slightly, ready but controlled.
The door creaked open.
Three men entered, dressed in dark suits, their expressions cold and professional. No visible weapons—but their rigid postures told me they were trained for this kind of situation.
Miguel shifted, moving slightly in front of Diego. "Who the hell are you?"
The tallest man, with a scar just above his eyebrow, raised his hands. "We're here for you, Miguel. Your father sent us."
Silence fell over the room.
Miguel's expression twisted, a mix of relief and anger. "And where is he?"
The scarred man kept his voice even. "Unavailable. But we're under strict orders to secure your safety and assist with your brother's care."
Miguel exhaled, shaking his head. "Of course, he sent his thugs instead of showing up himself."
