I looked toward the dark shipping containers stacked near the eastern wall.

I knew those men.

Richard had hired mercenaries from the docks—men who answered to a contractor named Vance.

I had seen Vance’s name in Roman’s private ledger three weeks ago.

I knew exactly how much Vance was owed, and who actually held his debt.

My phone vibrated again, twice, then stopped.

“Your men are not coming, Richard,” Roman said.

“Declan’s boys met them at the gate.”

Declan smiled, showing a row of crooked teeth.

“They did not put up much of a fight,” Declan said.

“They are mercenary scum.”

“They do not die for a man who cannot pay them.”

Richard’s chest heaved against my back.

I could feel his heart hammering like a trapped bird.

“That is a lie,” Richard said, but his voice lacked conviction.

“I promised them a cut of the Vescari accounts.”

“The accounts you do not have access to,” I whispered, my voice tight against the blade.

“Shut up, Maeve,” he spat, shaking me.

“You do not speak.”

“I do,” I said.