Balal's face tightened as he pressed down on the button. There was a loud beep, and then a voice. It was deep, raspy, like a person who spent their life smoking cigars.

“Who’s there?”

Jenna was surprised that the voice spoke in English, and not Arabic. She looked up at Balal's face, but he didn't show any surprise.

Is that your brother’s voice? Balal, you are so difficult to read right now.

Balal cleared his throat, his finger still on the green button.

“I am Sheikh Balal El-Djourani. I'm here for my brother.”

He pulled his finger off of the button.

“Password?” the voice replied a few maddeningly long seconds later.

Balal blinked in confusion, his eyes searching the door, as if it might give him some sort of clue. Maybe he wasn’t used to his name not working like a key in a lock.

“Password?” he repeated, clearly surprised. Then he pressed the button again. “I don't know any password.”

“Then you aren't getting in,” the voice said firmly.

The Sheikh groaned, his finger still on the button.

“Please, I need to see my brother.” Jenna could see the pain on Balal's face as clear as day. “I know he’s in there.”

Jenna thought she heard rustling from behind the door, but she couldn't be sure. There was another beep from the button as Balal pressed it once more.

“Let me in, goddammit!”

Another voice came over the speaker, a different voice.

“Well, well, I figured you would find me eventually. Honestly, I’m surprised it took you this long.”

Balal’s face fell, and Jenna knew. It was Ahmad.

There was a series of loud clicks, and then what sounded like a wheel being turned. The hulking black metal door opened inward, and Jenna ducked behind Balal’s broad form. She realized that her knees were trembling. She grasped the back of his shirt, clinging tightly. She had no idea what she was walking into, but she didn’t want to be separated from him, not even for a second.

They stepped through the door, into a large, echoing room. It had a low ceiling, with sparse lights hanging from it, just like the one in the hall. There were rounded archways all around, dividing the large room into sections.

Beneath one arch, Jenna saw a large pile of wooden boxes stacked all the way to the ceiling. In the archway closest to her, she saw two sets of bunks, each with a small metal box at the foot. The other side of the room had an area with a worn, wooden desk, and another archway full of what looked like filing cabinets.

She couldn’t see much past Balal, but she heard enough shuffling footsteps to know that they were way outnumbered. She wished he had decided to bring his guards along. She had heard them arguing before she’d gone to bed, asking to come with him, but Balal had refused, saying that their presence would draw too much attention. Jenna had understood that when she’d been in the safety of the penthouse. But now, in a room full of gang members, she wondered how much of his pride was getting in the way.

Balal came to a stop, and Jenna pressed herself up against his back.

“Come out from behind him,” a voice rang out. It was the second voice from the speaker. “Or I’ll make you.”

She heard movement, and Balal put his hands around her.

“She’s with me,” Balal said. He looked over his shoulder. “Come around, Jenna. We want to show them that we are coming in peace.”

She swallowed hard and thought about running back out of the door. But she knew that the only way to protect Balal right now was to listen to him. So, she slowly stepped out from behind him and stood beside him.

She could see the room clearly now. She could see there were at least a dozen more archways around the room, all housing different things. She also saw three doors along the back wall, shadowed and dark.

There was a man in a loose white shirt, only partially buttoned, as if he had been disturbed in his getting ready. He wore dark pants, and his hair was shaggy and disheveled, but almost in a stylish way. The way he stood there, almost a head shorter than Balal, with a lanky, boyish body, made him look as if he did not have a care in the world.

The men who stood on either side of him wore all black, their faces covered, all much larger in stature than the man who was clearly in charge.

“My dear brother,” the man in the white shirt said, waving his hands dramatically. He took a deep bow, his slender legs not bending, his forehead nearly touching the ground. “Welcome, welcome, to my humble abode. Please excuse the mess. We are still in the process of setting up our operation here. We’ve just moved in, after all.”

Jenna felt Balal tense beside her, and when she looked at him, she saw that his hands had clenched into fists.

“Ahmad,” Balal said, and his voice cracked.

Jenna winced. The pain was obvious.

Ahmad, his head cocked to the side, laughed in a short, simple exhale.

“I imagine that you must be feeling a lot of things,” Ahmad replied, taking a step toward Balal, his hands clasped behind his back. “It’s been, what, three years since we saw each other last?”

Balal stared down at him, and Jenna watched as his back straightened and his shoulders squared.

“I’ve made plenty of attempts to contact you, brother,” Balal replied. “I tried looking for you. I have been looking for you.”

“Oh, spare me the mush,” Ahmad replied, waving his hand as if to wave off an annoying fly. “It was halfhearted at best. Admit it. You made a few phone calls and then gave up. If you really wanted to find me, you’d have kept looking.”

“I didn’t want to put anyone in danger,” Balal countered. “I knew the sort of men you had dealings with. I didn’t want to get anyone involved who didn’t need to be.”

“Oh, really?” Ahmad said, and then, without looking at her, he pointed at Jenna. “What about her? You bring her to the lair of the figurative beast, unarmed and unprotected?”

Balal’s hand twitched, and she wondered if he was going to pull his gun.

“I just wanted to talk to you,” Balal said. “I didn’t want to leave things the way we had.”

“Oh, you mean when you spent my inheritance?” Ahmad replied, but his cool demeanor was gone. His voice rose, and his brow knitted together in an angry line. He glared at Balal, and a wicked grin grew on his lips. “My dear, selfish brother, taking all of Mother and Father’s money, and blowing it!”

He was yelling, and his voice echoed harshly off of the walls.

“I know, and I was wrong,” Balal pleaded. “I was so wrong. But I made the money back, tenfold, and I wanted to share it with you, brother. My business should have been our legacy. I wanted to share it all with you.”

Ahmad threw back his head and laughed. The sound was hollow and made Jenna’s skin crawl.

“Ha!” he finished, pointing a finger at his brother. “I didn’t need you, or them! Look at me now! I’m on the top of the world, brother. I have all of the money I want, all of the women I want, and no one can stand in my way!”

“But look what it took to get you there!” Balal retorted. “Look at the life you’ve resorted to! Swindling, stealing, human trafficking!” He clasped a hand over Jenna’s shoulder. “This woman right here was one of those women.”

Ahmad arched an eyebrow, and his lips pursed together curiously.

“Is she, now?” Ahmad remarked, as casually as if Balal had mentioned a storm coming later that day. “And quite the specimen she is; she surely would have brought in a handsome sum.”

Balal took a protective step in front of Jenna, shielding her.

Ahmad laughed again and clapped his hands together. “Oh, I see. You purchased her for yourself, did you? And yet, you come down here and try to accuse me of doing wrong? Oh, Balal, how far have you fallen?”

“It’s not like that—” Balal insisted, but Ahmad’s laughter cut him off.

“Brother, you seem to think that I was somehow coerced into this way of life, or convinced of it.”

Jenna could see a nasty glint in the younger man’s eye, and she recoiled.

“You think that I don’t enjoy it, or that perhaps I have come to regret my decisions. But I can assure you, I am of sound mind and body, and am perfectly at peace with the lengths I have gone to in securing my fortune. Trust me, I have not lost any sleep over it.”

“But how could you?” Balal pleaded. “Did your life growing up mean nothing to you? Did Mother and Father mean nothing to you?”

“Silence!” Ahmad shrieked, and the room fell silent. The only sound Jenna could hear was the hum of the lights overhead and the pounding of her own blood in her ears.

“You will not speak of them here!” Ahmad hissed. “You, who thoughtlessly took the money they gave you, regardless of what that meant for me!”

“And what would you have done with it, huh?” Balal retorted, his voice rising. “Taken it all and spent it?”

The tension was building, and Jenna knew that it would soon come to breaking point. She felt the sweat start to build up on her palms, and took a shaky breath to try to steady herself.

Balal was still standing partially in front of her, so she slowly, ever so slowly, reached around into her back pocket. The other men, Ahmad’s guards, were paying attention to the brothers fighting, and both of their attentions were on each other, not her.

But if she made too much movement, then Ahmad and his guards would see her, and they would not hesitate to stop her. She had to be stealthy if this was going to work.

Jenna located her cell phone in her pocket, and felt around for the side of it. When she located the power button, she felt a small rush of relief, and she pressed it four times in quick succession. This, she knew, would activate the emergency contact alert that she and Adina had set up as a precaution, in case things went south.

She knew that as soon as the alert was sent, Adina would receive a notification, along with her location.

Adina’s words rang through her head.

“Anything goes wrong, you send to me. I do the rest.”

Jenna hoped that Adina would be quick to act. The image of Adina’s smiling face, the concerned expression in her eyes, had assured Jenna that she would follow through.

Help is on the way, Balal. Just keep him talking for a few more minutes.

“You cannot hide yourself from me, Ahmad,” Balal cried. “I know you. You are my own flesh and blood, and I know you are just running from what you really feel about all of this!”

“You must be out of your mind!” Ahmad replied. “Did you not hear anything I just told you? I regret nothing! I am living like a king, and it’s all because of what I did to get here!”

“You could still live like a king, if you were to leave all of this behind and come home!” Balal insisted, the desperation clear in his voice. “I could get you the protection you’d need from all of your so-called friends. You could start over—”

“Start over? Balal, you really have no idea who you are talking to, do you? The underbelly of Al Mezinda bows to me. No one can touch me; if people don’t respect me and do my bidding, they die. It’s just business,” Ahmad said, then shrugged his thin shoulders.

The cold way that he spoke made Jenna’s hatred flare in her, and she was again reminded that he was the man responsible for her kidnapping. For a moment, she didn’t care that he was Balal’s brother. He could rot in jail for all she cared.

Balal made a sound of disgust.

“You can beat around the bush all day, but that doesn’t change the fact that you are still you, deep down, somewhere.”

“Oh?” Ahmad retorted, his eyes and face spewing sarcasm. “And how have you come to that conclusion?”

Balal sighed heavily, and then gestured up over his head.

“What, have you found God now, brother?” Ahmad sneered.

“Perhaps,” Balal replied, “but I was referring to this place. You chose it, correct?”

Ahmad’s expression changed quickly, from mirthless humor to stone cold and calculating.

Balal nodded. “I knew you did. Do you know why? Because I remember.”

“You remember what?” Ahmad questioned, but his voice was less stable than it had been a moment before.

“I remember the afternoon our father took us to this very park and told us about this very bunker. He told us it was like a secret city beneath our very feet, and how if anyone ever wanted to be safe and protected, they could come here.”

Ahmad’s jaw tightened, and Jenna saw him swallow, his face paling.

“And I remember how we used to play as children in the yard, pretending to be soldiers with a secret hideout here, in this bunker. The drawings on the inside of our treehouse were so detailed that I think that is all we thought of for much of our childhood. Father would encourage us with stories about brave men who used the bunker we had created in our imaginations. I think he rather liked that we loved something he had showed us so much.”

Balal’s brother worked his jaw and crossed his arms across his chest. The breaking point was approaching, and quickly. Jenna swallowed nervously, but her throat was dry.

“And do you know what else I remember?” Balal asked, his voice calm and steady. He was much more confident now. “I remember the night I came home and found the statue our parents had given me, smashed into thousands of pieces. I remember the anguish I felt at knowing it was more than a random act of violence by a brother who was grieving. No, it was a deliberate act, made to shake me to my core.”

Ahmad had lowered his hands to his sides, and Jenna saw that they were clenched into fists.

“What would Mother and Father think of you now, Ahmad? Do you think they would be proud? Their youngest son, who they loved so dearly. What would they think?”

Jenna felt she could have heard a pin drop in the room.

“And what of me?” Balal continued. “I know that my brother is in there somewhere, and that he still lives.”

Ahmad let out a wail—of pain, or anguish, or fear—Jenna didn’t know, but it was loud and startling. In the same moment, he reached behind himself and pulled out a small firearm. Sleek, black—something that a mob boss would carry in a movie.

And he pointed it directly at Balal.

The whole room froze.

“You cannot change me with your honeyed words,” Ahmad yelled, his face blood red, spit flying from his mouth. “I will not be broken!”

And then, he pulled the trigger.

Jenna must have known what was coming, because as soon as Ahmad said the word broken, she reached over and shoved Balal as hard as she could. He was a sturdy man, and the motion barely moved him, but it was enough to push him off-kilter.

Balal collided with the ground, and the bullet missed his center. But it didn’t matter. Blood had begun to blossom like a flower in his side.