Desmond pretended to wipe off the tears that weren’t there. “How touching, but you’re wrong. Your children aren’t innocent. They’re Monti. That makes them guilty. But enough about that. I came here to cut off the head of the snake, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

A dark-haired man stepped forward, offering a machete to Desmond, whose hazel eyes sparkled. My brothers struggled, but it was useless. I didn’t know what had happened to our guards outside, but I assumed they were dead.

Desmond took the machete and lifted it up so its blade glistened in the light. “But first, you’ll watch your heirs die. How do you like that?” He smirked at my dad, who tried to get to his feet and lunge at Desmond, but two men were holding him down.

“No!” my dad yelled, and my mom let out a muffled groan. “Please. Have mercy!”

“Hmm.” Desmond lowered the machete and rubbed his chin. “Mercy? I don’t remember your men ever showing mercy toward mine, but okay.” He shrugged. “How about this? One of your sons gets a quick death. A bullet to the head. You pick which one of your boys it’s gonna be. Who’s your favorite?”

“No.” My dad gritted his teeth.

“No? My, my.” Desmond made his way across the room toward my mom, who was still lying on the floor. He pointed the machete toward her. “Alright, Genaro. Choose now or I’ll cut off one of your wife’s fingers.”

“You sick son of a bitch!” my oldest brother yelled, thrashing against his captors.

“Well, that’s very rude. I won’t permit anyone to disrespect me.” Desmond handed the machete to the closest of his men and headed toward my brother. “Get him up.”

My brother was forced to his feet. Desmond advanced toward him and punched him in the face so hard that blood burst from my brother’s nose. Desmond’s men had a strong grip on him and didn’t let him fall down or turn away as Desmond pummeled him.

The meaty thud of each punch made my stomach flip, but Desmond didn’t stop. I was vaguely aware of my parents crying, screaming, and begging, but nothing could block out the sickening crunch of broken bones. There was blood everywhere—on Desmond’s hands, on the floor...

My brother’s face was a bloody mess when his body went limp, and Desmond stepped back, wiping sweat off his forehead. An insane laugh escaped Desmond’s throat as his men lowered my brother’s body to the floor.

“One more down, two to go.” Desmond grinned, and I must have made a step forward, because the arm around me became like steel that barely let me breathe. “Genaro, let’s get back to you. Have you decided yet? I think I gave you enough time.”