Chapter 31: Dangerous Propositions.

Talon sat heavily in the chair, his fists clenched, jaw set like stone. "Talk," he commanded, his voice low and deadly.

Holts, his lips twitching into a smirk. "Is someone going to offer me a drink?" His attempt to diffuse the tension fell flat.

Talon didn’t hesitate this time. His fist connected with Holts’ face, sending him stumbling off the chair and into the wall, his breath leaving in a sharp grunt. "No jokes. Start talking, or I hand you over to her," Talon growled, nodding towards Ava.

Ava’s response was a slow, tight smile, her eyes gleaming with a dangerous edge. "You might not like my methods, old man." She stood there, unflinching, her presence alone enough to freeze the room.

Eli, standing by uncertainly, took a step forward, concern etched into his features. "Ava, do we really need—"

"Take Sarah into my bedroom, please, Eli," Ava cut him off, her voice cold and decisive. "We need to have a conversation, and you two don’t want to be part of it."

Sarah, standing next to Eli, opened her mouth to protest, but Ava silenced her with a sharp look. "Sarah, the less you know, the better. Go."

Eli, understanding the tone all too well, gently pulled Sarah towards the bedroom. Sarah, bewildered but trusting Ava, reluctantly followed, casting a glance back before the door clicked shut behind them.

"Now," Talon spat, "who’s coming for us?"

Holts, adjusting himself in the chair, winced and began explaining. "After your little escapade at the casino, my power’s been chipped away bit by bit. I lost a lot of men. It’s left a vacuum. And in the Syndicate, when there's a vacuum, someone always fills it."

Talon, pacing now, barked, "And what does that have to do with us? Sounds like a ‘you’ problem."

Holts’ smirk returned, though it lacked any real mirth. "Oh, it is. But the Syndicate... it has rules, son. If someone’s coming for me, they’re coming for you too. Loose ends, unfinished business. That’s how this life works."

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Ava didn’t move, her eyes narrowed. "Let me guess. You drag us into this because if they can’t kill you, they’ll come for Talon. They’ll come for me."

"Exactly," Holts said, his voice grim. "Once they’re done with me, they’ll sweep through here like a plague. They won’t leave anyone alive, especially not someone like you." He nodded toward Ava, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the room.

Talon slammed his hands onto the table, fury radiating from him. "You brought this to our door! To my door! You’ve already cost me one life!" His voice cracked, the weight of his past catching up to him in a flash of anger.

Holts leaned back in his chair, attempting to appear calm but clearly rattled by Talon’s intensity. "I didn’t have a choice, son. You never have a choice in the Syndicate. You’re born into it, and you die by it. Unless..." He let the word hang in the air.

"Unless what?" Ava's voice was a sharp blade cutting through the tension.

"Unless we take care of this one last thing. You help me kill the man who’s challenging my position, and I’ll make sure no one comes after you. I’ll be back in control, and this will all go away." Holts’s voice was full of desperation now, the mask of confidence cracking.

Talon snorted, pacing again. "And we’re supposed to believe you? After everything? I’d rather hand you over to them myself, let them deal with you."

Holts’s expression darkened, his voice turning icy. "If I die, they’ll come for you anyway. The Syndicate doesn’t leave loose ends. You, her," he jerked his head toward Ava, "Green Arbor—none of it will survive."

Talon stopped pacing, the weight of the truth sinking in. His fists clenched and unclenched, the internal war evident on his face. Ava watched him carefully, her own anger simmering just beneath the surface, but her mind was working, calculating. They were cornered.

"So, what’s the plan?" Ava asked, her tone deadly calm.

Holts grinned, sensing the shift. "Simple. We kill the man who’s coming for me, make it look like he was planning to betray the Syndicate. Once he's gone, I’ll be back in control. No one will come for you after that."

Talon’s eyes flickered with fury, but he nodded. "And if we do this, you disappear. Forever."

"Forever," Holts agreed, though the glint in his eye suggested otherwise.

Ava stepped forward, her pistol still in hand, the muzzle brushing Holts’s forehead. "If you double-cross us, I will find you. And I won’t need Talon to stop me."

Holts swallowed hard, a bead of sweat trickling down his temple. "I understand. No double-cross."

Talon stood up, the finality in his voice unmistakable. "We wait for the weather to break, then we end this. But remember, if I ever see you again, I’ll kill you."

Ava gave a slow, predatory smile. "That goes for me too."

Holts nodded, his bravado shattered, the weight of their threat heavy on his shoulders. The cabin was still, the cold outside nothing compared to the ice between father and son.

The room fell into silence as Holts sat back down, aware that the only thing keeping him alive was the thin, fragile thread of necessity. The storm outside raged on, mirroring the storm now brewing within the cabin. It was only a matter of time before blood would be spilled again.

And this time, there would be no forgiveness.