Vlad lowered his brows.

Delphine broke the strained silence that followed.

“Let me guess. Your background investigations were far from satisfactory.”

Wei Chen nodded. “Yes. I discovered the consortium was a front for Santana Isaacs.”

Navarro leaned forward. “Isaacs is what we call a ghost crime lord. He’s been running one of the most brutal syndicates in the Caribbean for the past fifteen years, but almost no one knows who he is or what he looks like. Those who accidentally do…” He trailed off.

“—end up at the bottom of the ocean,” Cortes finished in a chilling voice.

Navarro nodded.

“The man Isaacs hired to act as the leader of his syndicate is a puppet,” Wei Chen added. “A very convincing one. If it wasn’t for James’s instincts, we would have fallen for their ruse.”

Vlad scowled. “And you didn’t think to mention any of this during our peace negotiations?!”

“I couldn’t. I was working with the DEA by then.” Wei Chen’s face tightened. “My nephew got caught trying to smuggle cocaine through Miami International. Charlie made a mistake, but he’s a good kid. This is his first offense. He’s the only one in our family who doesn’t want to be in the business.” She glanced at Navarro. “The DEA offered him a deal on the condition I help set up a sting operation to capture Isaacs.”

Vlad clenched his jaw. “You used me as bait.”

Navarro ignored his bitter words. “We needed a legitimate reason for Isaacs to come to New York,” he said steadily. “Taking theBlack Devilsdown a peg or two was a challenge he couldn’t resist, especially considering the benefits he could reap if he were to gain the upper hand.”

“Except something went wrong,” Delphine said quietly.

The agent’s expression grew troubled. “We were planning to capture Isaacs when he attempted something against theBlack Devils.” He hesitated. “We didn’t know about the attack or the sorcerer until it was too late.”

Delphine’s scalp prickled at his tone.

“What aren’t you telling us?” Vlad asked stiffly.

Navarro and Wei Chen exchanged a look.

“We just found out that Isaacs’s uncle came to New York with him,” the agent finally said. “His name is Manuel Isaacs. He disappeared from Haiti fifteen years ago, around the same time Santana started building his empire.” His mouth flattened. “Local legend says he practiced magic while in Haiti. The kind that requires a human sacrifice. There are rumors he was behind the disappearance of dozens of women and children who have never been found.”

A chill danced down Delphine’s spine.

She and the mercenary corps she worked for had dealt with men like Manuel Isaacs plenty of times before. Monsters who deliberately used innocent women and children in their despicable schemes to gain power or maintain it. She’d seen plenty of unmarked graves containing the remains of those who’d lost their lives for a madman’s ambitions.

“So Santana Isaacs’s rise to power coincided with his uncle’s disappearance from Haiti,” she said in a hard voice. “I’m guessing you suspect Manuel’s magic played a part in that.”

“We believe so.” Navarro’s expression grew grim. “Every rival who stood in Santana’s way died under mysterious circumstances. Some went mad. A few wasted away from unknown diseases. Others simply vanished.”

“Like those women and children in Haiti,” Cortes said darkly.

Delphine noted Vlad’s white knuckles underneath the table. She clamped down on the urge to touch his shoulder and focused on the conversation.

“You have to believe me, Vlad.” Wei Chen’s face tightened. “I didn’t know about Isaacs’s uncle until yesterday.”

A muscle jumped in Vlad’s cheek.

“We’ve been trying to get to Santana Isaacs for years,” Navarro said, a hint of an apology in his voice. “This was our best shot.”

“Your best shot went sideways in a major way,” Vlad grated out. “And now I have less than thirty-six hours to break this damn curse before it becomes permanent!”

Wei Chen paled. “The curse can become permanent?”

“Yes,” Vlad said bitterly.