I woke up before everyone else—stillness filled the house. After a quick shower, I headed to the kitchen to prepare breakfast for the family. By the time the food was ready, they began trickling out of their rooms, freshly showered and half-awake.
We ate together, and as the meal unfolded, so did their stories. Isabella's life seemed effortless, but beneath the surface, Victor had been waging a silent war—kidnapping and killing her men.
Worse still, Victor had pieced together the truth about Tony's death—and the horrifying realization that Isabella had not only avenged it but had also stripped him of his empire. Now, he wasn't just plotting revenge; he was mobilizing for war.
Marina's voice cut through my thoughts, gentle but insistent. "You promised." She wanted to return to Mexico to see her grandmother, and I couldn't refuse her—not again.
