**Scene: Tia Rosa's Ladies' Party**
**Setting:** Tia Rosa's vibrant, slightly over-decorated apartment. The air was thick with the scent of perfume, strong coffee, and gossip.
Four of her friends—Carmen, Lupe, Rosa, and the quiet one, Imelda—were seated around the living room, holding small cups of Cuban coffee, immersed in a dramatic story Tia Rosa was telling.
TIA ROSA: (Fanning herself dramatically) "...and I told him, 'Carlos, if you think for one second I will tolerate your *pendejadas* while your *amante* is getting her nails done with my money, you have another thing coming!' So I took the parrot—"
CARMEN: The parrot? *Dios mío*, Rosa, not the parrot!
TIA ROSA: —Sí, the parrot, the one that only says his name and 'idiot'—and I left it in her convertible! *Ay*, the scandal!
The women erupted in laughter and clapping. The doorbell rang.
TIA ROSA: (Waving a dismissive hand) No importa. Probably that useless boy with the avocados, they are never ripe enough. Lupe, *mi amor*, get the door, will you?
Lupe got up and she swung the door open, a complaint already on her lips. It died there.
Standing on her pristine welcome mat were her three oldest nephews.
Elijah stood front and center, a statue in a black suit, his face a mask of icy calm.
Riven loomed behind his right shoulder, his massive arms crossed, a fresh scar visible on his knuckles. He looked deeply uncomfortable, his eyes scanning the room of chattering women like it was a hostile battlefield.
Leo was on the left, clutching a leather-bound folder, his glasses glinting as he analyzed the scene with visible distress.
The lively chatter from the living room died instantly. Forks hovered mid-air. All eyes were on the door.
Tia Rosa's face cycled through shock, offense, and then settled on performative indignation.
"Dios mío," she gasped, placing a hand on her chest. "Elijah? ¿Qué pasa? Is someone dead? It's Juliet, isn't it? I knew it! I had a dream about a falling dove!"
"Juliet is fine, Tia," Elijah's voice was low, a quiet rumble of thunder in her pastel-colored hallway. "We need to speak with you. Privately."
"¿Ahora? Now?" she hissed, gesturing wildly with her head back towards her party. "I have company! We are in the middle of— Can't it wait?"
"No," Elijah said. And he took a single step forward, a silent, unstoppable force.
Tia Rosa, flustered, had no choice but to step back, letting the darkness of her family spill into her bright, noisy home.
The music seemed to falter. Every one of her friends had turned to stare, their chatter replaced by a stunned silence. The Fernandez brothers were local legend, but seeing them here, in the flesh, was like seeing wolves walk into a tea party.
Riven closed the door behind them with a soft, definitive click. The lock turning was the loudest sound in the room.
"Ladies," Tia Rosa said, her voice strained as she tried to reclaim control of her own home. "Forgive me. This is a... a family emergency. You have to go. ¿Ahora?"
There was a frantic scramble. Purses were snatched, glasses set down. The women practically fled, squeezing past the silent brothers with terrified, wide-eyed glances. They didn't say goodbye.
In less than sixty seconds, the apartment was empty. The only sound was the cheerful, oblivious salsa music still playing from the Bluetooth speaker.
Tia Rosa stood in the middle of the wreckage of her party, surrounded by half-empty glasses and plates of food. She whirled on Elijah, her fear quickly morphing into outrage.
"¡Me has avergonzado! You embarrass me in my own home! In front of my friends! What is wrong with you? What is so important that you scare away everyone?"
Elijah didn't flinch. He reached into his inner suit pocket and pulled out the folded will. He didn't hand it to her. He just held it up, his eyes locked on hers.
"This," he said.
Tia Rosa's eyes dropped to the paper. She squinted, then her face softened with recognition and grief. "Is that...? Dios, Isabella..."
"It's her will," Elijah's voice was like ice cracking. "It says you are to be Juliet's guardian."
The anger vanished from Tia Rosa's face, replaced by a profound, stunned silence. Her eyes welled with sudden tears. "Ella... ella me escogió a mí? She... she chose me?" she whispered.
For a moment, she looked unbearably touched. Honored. Then, the meaning crashed down on her. Her gaze snapped back to Elijah's, hardening with a fierce, maternal fire.
"Sí. Yes," she declared, her voice gaining a powerful, unshakable strength. "She wanted her baby to be safe! With family! Away from... all of this!" She gestured with a furious, sweeping hand at the three of them, at their suits, their guns, their entire violent world. "Away from you!"
"You have no idea what you're talking about," Riven snapped, stepping forward.
"¡Cállate! Shut up!" she roared, turning her fury on him. "I changed your diapers! Do not speak to me like one of your... your gangster friends! This is your mother's wish! It is sacred!"
Elijah finally spoke, his voice dropping to a deadly whisper. "Listen to me very carefully, Tía. If you try to take her, you will be signing your own death warrant. And hers."
"¿Qué? What are you talking about?"
"The men who killed our mother are still out there," Elijah said, taking a step closer, looming over her. "They know about Juliet. And if you take her, they will find you. They won't send a man with a crowbar. They will send a team. And they will not care that you are in the way."
"¡Basta! Enough!" she roared, turning on him. "You think I am afraid? I faced a kidnapper for that baby! What have you done? Given her a life where she needs facing kidnappers! I am her familia! Her sangre! You are just... just hombres con pistolas!"
The insult hung in the air. Men with guns. She had reduced their entire empire to that.
Elijah's eyes turned to ice. "If you file this with the court, you are declaring war on me. And you will lose."
Tia Rosa got right in his face, her finger jabbing the air an inch from his chest. She was a small woman, but in that moment, she was a giant.
"You listen to me, Elijah Fernandez. You may be a big, scary man out there," she said, her voice trembling with rage. "But in here, you are my sobrino. And you do not tell me what to do."
She took a step back, clutching the will, her chest heaving.
"That baby is the last piece of my sister I have left. Isabella asked me to keep her safe. And I will. From the world... y si es necesario, de ustedes también."
The translation was unnecessary. The meaning was clear: "And if necessary, from you, too."
She pointed a trembling finger toward the door. "Now. Get out of my house."
The brothers were stunned into silence. They had expected tears, fear, negotiation. They had not expected a declaration of war.
Elijah looked down at her, this dramatic, perfumed, utterly fearless woman. He gave a single, slow nod. It wasn't a nod of acceptance. It was a nod of acknowledgment. The battle lines are drawn.
He turned and walked out, his brothers following. The door closed, leaving Tia Rosa alone.
She stood there, shaking, the will crumpled in her fist. Then, she walked to the table, picked up her phone, and dialed a number with furious determination.
"Hola, Abogado Rodríguez?" she said, her voice raw but steady. "Soy Rosa Flores. Necesito pelear por la custodia de mi sobrina."
She was not giving up. She was just getting started. And the Fernandez brothers had just made the most dangerous mistake of their lives: underestimating the love of a determined aunt.