“What exactly are they after?” Rafayel asked, his voice taking on the measured tone he employed in court. “Beyond the financial extortion, I mean. There must be an endgame to all this.”

Grandpa’s face grew even more ashen, if such a thing were possible. “They want us completely under their thumb, you see. The fifty per cent revenue isn’t merely about money—it’s about control. They’ve made it perfectly clear that should we comply with their demands, they’ll ensure our… cooperation… in their other ventures.”

“Other ventures?” I prompted, though I suspected I already knew the answer.

“Money laundering through our agricultural accounts, providing false documentation for their pharmaceutical schemes, even...