As the Hayes heir departed to secure the perimeter, Boris slunk toward the Syndicate manager.

The manager, dropping his facade of arrogance, looked at Boris with a sharp edge of urgency. "Is the trap set? Can we truly snare the Black Wolf of the Montgomerys?"

"Without a doubt," Boris replied, a jagged confidence in his voice. "I’ve sent the scrying-crystals and the scent-markers. Hudson is already on the hunt. Keep your spine straight, and the Montgomerys will grant you the trade lands you crave. Just ensure you remember who handed you the keys to the kingdom."

The hour of the parley arrived. Grant had intended to send Sadie and Avery...