Page 122 of Branded

This is what it means to be part of this family. This is the darkness beneath the respectable ranching operations, charity galas and carefully maintained public images.

This is who they really are when threatened.

An explosion rocks the main house. The second floor collapses inward, flames shooting up.

“Sebastian!” I start forward, but Caroline grabs me and holds me back.

“Wait. He knows what he’s doing.”

“The building’s collapsing.”

“Then he’ll get out.”

Three figures emerge from the smoke. Sebastian, Walker and Pete. All three covered in soot and blood, but walking. Moving with purpose toward us.

Relief floods through me so intensely that I nearly collapse.

Sebastian sees me, and his whole expression changes. He crosses the distance in seconds, yanks me into his arms so tight I can barely breathe.

“You’re okay. Tell me you’re okay.”

“I’m fine. I’m okay.” I hold him just as tight. “You came for me. You brought your family.”

“Of course I did. There was never any question.” He pulls back to look at me, his hands framing my face. “Did they hurt you? Did anyone?” His voice is harsh, and he can’t finish his question.

“No. They kept me in a basement, but they didn’t, I mean, I’m not hurt, and I wasn’t, I’m fine, Sebastian. I promise.”

“Good.” His eyes go cold again. “Because if they had, I’d go back in there and make sure they died slower.”

Miguel appears beside us. “Thomas?”

“Dead,” Pete says, his voice flat. “Third floor. Didn’t make it out before the collapse.”

“And his sons?” Walker asks.

“The ones that were here are dead,” Sebastian says. “The others will be too if they decide to continue this war.”

I stare at them, at the casual way they’re discussing death. Multiple deaths. The Marshall family leadership, gone. Killed deliberately, systematically.

“How many total?” Caroline asks, typing on her laptop.

“Fifteen confirmed,” Sebastian says. “All the men who were here when we arrived. None escaped.”

“Good.” Caroline keeps typing. “I’m documenting this as a hostage rescue that went wrong. They fired first; we returned fire. The building caught fire during the firefight. Tragic loss of life, but justified given they kidnapped Lennox.”

“Will that hold up?” I ask.

“With the evidence I’ve manufactured? Yes.” Caroline’s smile is sharp. “By the time the sheriff gets here, the narrative will be clear. The Marshalls were desperate, dangerous. They kidnapped Lennox. We responded appropriately to rescue her. The fire is an unfortunate consequence of their resistance.”

“And the bodies?” I hear myself ask.

“What bodies?” Walker’s voice is cold. “I see a lot of casualties from a fire. All unfortunate. All tragic. All necessary to get my daughter-in-law back safely.”

The implications settle over me. They aren’t just covering this up. They are rewriting it. Making murder look like a justified rescue that turned into a massive accident.

And they’re good at it.

“Sheriff’s on his way,” Caroline says. “ETA twenty minutes. Everyone needs to get their stories straight. We were rescuing Lennox. They fired first. The building caught fire. Once we got Lennox out, we tried to put it out but couldn’t save everyone. Clear?”