Barsad led Patrick down through the myriad of passages in the sewers. He wasn't going to let Patrick out of his sight for a second.

They walked along the corridor where Grace was being kept.

"Make sure you knock." Barsad smirked. "Give her time to make herself presentable."

"You don't have to babysit me, you know." Patrick grumbled.

"Oh, but I do. You don't want to even think about what would happen to your dear sister should I find you trying to warn her, or anyone outside this base, about our plans." Barsad warned.

"I told you; it was stupid to try and pull a fast one on you. It won't happen again."

"That's what they all say." Barsad scoffed.

They had reached the door and Patrick knocked.

"Go away!" Grace shouted from the other side.

Both men took a step back.

"Wow, I just had a flashback to when you and your friends would have sleepovers when we were kids."

"Patrick?" She called out.

"Yeah, it's me. Are you going to let me in?"

"That prick with the big gun has the key."

"I missed you too, princess." Barsad called.

"Patrick, tell that bógan to open the damn door!"

Barsad rolled his eyes at her antics.

"I don't even think you need me to translate that." Patrick chuckled.

"I'll just add it to my lexicon." Barsad made a note of the word and unlocked the door.

The two siblings immediately threw their arms around each other.

It was a touching reunion.

Grace's eyes shone with unshed tears.

"I'm sorry, sis. I never meant for you to get caught up in any of this." Patrick whispered.

"I know." She whispered.

They broke apart with sad smiles on their faces, only for the sombre mood to get cut short when the smaller woman sent a punch to her brother's arm.

"What were you thinking?" She threw another punch to his other arm. "Did you learn nothing when you were in prison?"

"Jesus, calm down, woman." He tried to fend off her attacks.

"Don't tell me to calm down." She retreated back into the room and sat on the cot. "I was kidnapped and brought down into the sewers and I've been stuck in here, slowly losing my mind, for god knows how long."

"Wow, you got your own room?" Patrick looked around trying to make light. "I'm sharing with three others."

"Are you sharing with him?" She nodded at Barsad.

"No, he's too high-ranking to share with the underlings. Him and the big boss get their own areas."

"That's nice for them." The sarcasm was laid on thick. "How did you end up here? Why are you working for them?"

"They grabbed me after you left the café. I've been here ever since."

"For fuck's sake, Patrick! I told you to be careful." She scolded.

"I know you did." He spoke quietly. "Don't worry about me. What's happened has happened and I need to deal with it. Just tell me that you're okay? No one has bothered you, right?"

"I'm fine. They all leave me alone. So far it's just him behind you that visits me."

"And has he harmed you?"

"No, he's just annoying." She tilted her head to catch the other man's muddled gaze. Patrick turned around to face Barsad.

"He looks so confused right now." Patrick laughed.

"I know you're talking about me." Barsad interjected.

"We're having a private conversation, buddy." Patrick addressed Barsad.

"Are you sure that's a language and not something you just made up on the spot?"

"You never said we couldn't speak in Irish." Patrick challenged.

As soon as the siblings hugged, Barsad watched helplessly as the pair spoke in 'Gale-gah' back and forth. He never foresaw this as a problem. They didn't seem bilingual.

"From now on I'll ask you to only speak in English."

"Duracán." She muttered quietly.

"Whatever that means. Right back at you, princess." He sneered.

"What exactly are you worried we're going to say to each other?" Patrick asked.

"You could be plotting to escape or any other scenario we would frown upon."

"Or we could be discussing how well you're looking."

Barsad scoffed.

"Well then, may I just say 'Powg muh hone'." He sneered.

Patrick couldn't help but let out a small chuckle.

"Can either of you tell me when I can leave this room?" Grace asked in English.

"That's up to Barsad here."

Patrick grinned as Barsad gave him a look of annoyance.

"Your name's Barsad?" She finally got the answer to her question.

"Well, now that the cat's out of the bag, I think we'll end it there for today. You have work to do." Barsad rounded on Patrick and pushed him out of the room.

"Wait, you're leaving me alone again?"

"Don't worry, princess. You have your little friend in your suitcase to keep you satisfied." At her death stare Barsad smirked. "Don't wait up."

The door slammed in her face.

"What the fuck was that about? What friend in her suitcase?"

"Don't even give it a moment's thought." Barsad began walking to the central hub. "Trust me." He gave him a pat on the back.

Patrick frowned but didn't follow up.

"Well, thanks for letting me see her, I guess."

"No thanks needed. You fulfil your part, and we keep her safe."

"When will she be let out? That room's ridiculously small to stay in all day and night."

"Bane will make a decision soon." They made it back to their station.

But something was wrong.

There was noise. Too much noise.

There was a crowd forming off to the side. Cheering and egging on something.

"What's going on?" Patrick asked.

"Stay there and don't move." Barsad moved towards the huddled mass of men.

"What the fuck is going on here?" Barsad called out. If Bane was here, there would have been a blood bath. "You all have jobs to do." He finally made it to the centre of the group.

Two men were fighting on the ground. Something was grasped between their hands.

"Pull them apart." Barsad went to help pull two of the younger members away from each other.

Once each man was secured by two others, Barsad could see that they were fighting over.

A scrap of lace.

He recognised it from somewhere.

"Who does that belong to?"

"They are mine. That little prick stole it from my bunk." Eduardo was foaming at the mouth.

"Why do you have a pair of women's panties?" Barsad raised a brow at the man.

"They belonged to that puta. The one you're keeping locked up."

Grace. These are hers?

Barsad picked up the underwear.

"And how did you get them?"

"Bartov was handing them out like candy." The young man tried to break free. "First come, first served."

Barsad's eyes grew dark. He looked around at the others. Most had blank looks on their faces.

"And does anyone else have a pair of her underwear?"

No one admitted to it.

"We do not tolerate infighting. You are meant to be brothers."

"I don't like brothers. I like women." Eduardo tried to grab the lace in Barsad's hand.

Barsad moved swiftly and had his wrist in a hold. He twisted until he heard it break.

The man grunted in pain.

"I trust that those of you who purchased any goods off Bartov will surrender them to me before the end of the day. Or else. Spread the word." Barsad left the circle and the men quickly dispersed.

He quickly stuffed the lace into his pocket before Patrick could see.

"What was that about?" Patrick sat with the rest of the IT team.

"It's been dealt with. Show them the programme. I'll be back to check on you in an hour."

Barsad left the team and made his way to Bane who, by chance, was going over blueprints with Bartov.

"Do you think this is some playground where you can make a quick buck off of desperate men?" Barsad spoke harshly.

"What are you talking about?" Bartov asked innocently.

"You sold off Grace's clothes to the men. Two were fighting over this." He pulled out the item and set it on the table.

"Oh that?" Bartov abandoned his innocent look. "The woman had two drawers full of the things. I didn't think she'd miss a few." He shrugged.

"We promised to keep her safe. I made sure Fitzgerald was away from the commotion, but I don't think he'll be pleased if he hears you're auctioning off her delicates. Do you think she'll be safe if men are fighting over her clothes? What will happen when she leaves her room?"

Bane was eerily quiet as he listened to Barsad's concerns.

"I want the names of the men you sold them too. Or I'll make an example of you in front of everyone." Barsad warned.

"It's just underwear. You can buy them from any bodega on the corner. It's not a big deal." Bartov's blasé attitude was infuriating.

"You will do as Barsad asks, or I will deal with you." Bane's hand landed on his shoulder, in a clear threat.

It was almost comical how quick he changed his tune.

"O-of course, sir. Right away." He quickly left to gather the names.

xxx

Bane watched as Barsad quietly seethed.

"You were right to confront him. We cannot let our men believe she is an object of pursuit."

"She can't know this happened. I'll destroy any clothes handed to me."

"See to it that you do." Bane agreed.

Bane watched Barsad throw the pair into the incinerator.

He hadn't given much thought to their new guest.

Barsad was dealing with her. The brother hasn't had another incident since she arrived.

As he watched the fire dance before his eyes, he tried to understand why he suddenly felt the urge to go visit her.

He had promised the brother that she would be safe.

But since she arrived, he had noticed a lot of his men making detours past the room where she was being held.

Or in the food hall. He couldn't help overhearing the conversations that orbited around her appearance.

He knew the depravities that went on in a man's mind when denied the company of a woman.

And now with one in their base, and a very lovely one at that, it was inevitable there would be complications.

There was one way to dissuade his men's interest.

Maybe if his followers saw him interact with her, they would be less inclined to harass her.

Perhaps it was time to pay her a visit.