Kuban kept at it. "You''ve been spending time with the injured guy thest couple of days. Did he ask you about anything?"


    “He asked about falconry techniques, and for rmendations on good food and fun ces nearby," Dane replied.


    "That''s it?"


    Dane stopped walking and fixed him with an annoyed stare. "What did you think he would ask me about?"


    Kuban''s lips twitched into a smile. "I thought maybe he''d ask you about some kind of ''baby''."


    Dane didn''t miss a beat. “Our eagles are our biggest ''babies''! He already asked about them."


    Kuban nodded quickly. "Oh, right."


    "Stop following me,” Dane said, dismissing him. “I need to go home and look after my brother."


    Kuban nodded eagerly. "Okay, see youter."


    Dane walked off without another word. Kuban watched his back, a frown creasing his forehead. "..."


    Dane felt the hostile gaze on his back but didn''t turn around. He stopped by a neighbor''s house first to call Diaz home.


    Once they were back, Diaz asked, "Brother, did Wyatt get in trouble again today?"


    Dane shook his head. "Wyatt is a good man. He''s a hero.”


    "Then what about Lowell and Mr. Bradford?" Diaz asked.


    "What about them?" Dane countered.


    "Kuban came looking for me today," Diaz exined. “He was asking about them, asking if they were good guys or bad guys."


    Dane''s brow furrowed. "What did you say?"


    "I told him the truth. I don''t know if they''re good or bad. All I know is that Mr. Bradford has been asking Grandpa to teach him some old form of hand-to-handbat."


    Dane was silent for a moment. He


    knelt in front of Diaz, cing his


    hands on his shoulders. "If Kuban


    and Mrs Bradford


    asks about Lowen''t know And


    again just say you


    from now on, stay away from Kuban. Don''t be alone with him."


    "Why?" Diaz asked, confused.


    "No reason. Just remember what I told you."


    Diaz was obedient. "Okay, I''ll remember."


    Dane sent Diaz off to do his homework. He stood staring at an old photograph of his father, a growing unease settling in his gut. He had a terrible feeling that something very bad was about to happen.


    On the sea, in a vi on a private ind.


    A tall man stood before a massive


    stood


    ss wall, admiring the giant fish inside. In the water, a


    fearsome-looking fish, over two meters long, swam slowly. At first nce, it looked like an Amazonian catfish, but on closer inspection, it was something else entirely-something far more terrifying.


    It moved with a deliberate slowness, its eyes locked on the man, as if waiting for a chance to strike. This was no ordinary fish. It was intelligent, cunning, and dangerous.


    The man''s eyes narrowed, a smile ying on his lips as he gave a slight wave of his hand.


    His subordinate behind him understood the signal and made a quick phone call. Soon, a powerfully built man was thrown into the water. He was naked, his body a mass of muscle-clearly a trained fighter.


    Seeing the giant fish, the man''s face filled with terror. He struggled, trying to swim to the surface to escape. The fish focked onto its target and shot forward like a torpedo. It didn''t bite slegs instead, it circled around in front of him and, in ore swift motion, mped itsjaws around his head, swallowing it whole. A fatal, decisive strike.


    The water instantly bloomed red with blood. The man went limp, his struggles ceasing as he became food for the great fish in a matter of seconds. The feeding was a brutal, savage spectacle.....


    The man watching from outside the ss shook his head and remarked with a sigh, "He stillcks finesse. A quick kill ruins all the suspense. How dreadfully boring."


    His voice was low and pleasant, yet his tone carried a hint of disappointment, like that of a patient man let down one too many times.