The air was clear. The sun peered shyly from behind heavy clouds, and the faded blue sky seemed to insist—despite the downpour of grief—that it was still a beautiful day.
I stood motionless in front of the marble stone with Ace's name carved into it, not far from his father's and siblings'. No one spoke; the silence itself seemed to whisper that, from this day forward, nothing would be easy for me. There were no audible sobs from the gathered Fontanillas, but I knew how broken their hearts were. Should I take advantage of it? Or should I be afraid?
Two meters behind me, the staff held white roses. The cemetery was nearly full with their ranks—faces I knew watching us from a polite distance, the kind of people who disappeared back into the mansion once their duty here was done.
"I know you know I won't let this pass so easily," Damian began. One by one, his men drifted back to the mansion, their tasks calling them. He left the Fontanillas to grieve in private.
Damian stood dumbfounded for a moment, but authority clung to him like a second skin. Rage lined his eyes—an edge I couldn't miss.
"I won't kill you because my child matters to me," he said, turning to face me; I turned my head away on purpose. "But I will make sure you die without my hands touching you. You'll run the poppy plantations. You'll run the drop-offs for ecstasy and marijuana with the syndicates we sell to."
I said nothing. I didn't know what he was thinking, only that it wasn't good or safe for me.
Max walked off without a word. Leo remained, watching his brother walk away; he glanced once at his father, then followed. That left just Damian and me.
"Bring in the drugs, and take in all the money. You have one hundred men," he said.
I rolled my eyes and shot back, annoyed. "Are you giving me a chance to take you down? The drugs alone are worth millions, and your properties are worth billions. Have you thought that one mistake could erase it all? Are you really willing to lose everything for a single life—mine?"
Damian laughed at me. I didn't want to save him, but the depth of his obsession—willing to bleed his empire dry to erase me—bothered me. Impossible. He wasn't that stupid. There had to be something deeper.
"Who said I'd demand only one life when everything I own crumbles?" he asked with a grin, looking me over. "Ezekiel… and your father, Artemis…"
My fists clenched at his words, but I kept my hands from showing it. I had suspected as much.
Damian drew in a long breath and stared off into the distance. He shoved his hands into his pockets, and as if he were treading over his youngest son's gravesite, he smiled—an ordinary smile, as though nothing was out of place.
"I don't want you to fail, because first, I hold their lives in my hands, and second, I can reclaim anything you lose if you screw up. Millions—no. Billions? Artemis has plenty; his business in the underground is thriving, like mine."
I frowned. My father's legitimate businesses—he'd inherited Jaranilla Group from my grandfather—had no need for illegal trade. He had more successful companies than I could count on fingers and toes.
"What are you saying?" I asked coldly. "Kill Artemis if you want. I don't care. And if you dare lay a hand on Kiel, don't expect only your drugs and properties to be gone."
"I'm not stupid enough to think you've forgotten him—"
"I don't care if you think so. What I'm saying is this: the moment Ezekiel is taken from me in any way, expect your empire to collapse. Trust me, Damian. I am more than the assassin you taught how to hold a gun."
I drove my gaze into him, no longer hiding my feelings. Denying my father in front of him stung, but it was necessary; if he knew my weakness, he would use it.
"Fine," Damian said, nodding. "I don't care about Ezekiel as long as he won't be another headache. What matters now is you do the job I'm giving you—because before you'd even think of destroying me, the corpses of those two will have already been laid out on the floor."
He walked past me, the rest of his men following. He didn't throw me another look; he got into his car and left. I stood there with hands clenched and tears brimming in the corners of my eyes. This was over; the funeral was done and the world circled back to its old cruelty. Ace was buried, and with him, any normalcy. Damian's harassment continued; my plans continued.
"You're an animal, Damian!" I cried out after them. Hot tears fell and I sank to my knees at Ace's grave.
Days passed. Everything returned to its routine. As Damian said, he gave me charge of the plantations and drop-off points. Over two months everything became a blur: I moved the poppy fields to Benguet, and mixed marijuana into cassava crops in Laguna and Rizal to hide it—its leaves blended with the fields, unnoticed.
For two months, my focus narrowed to supervising plantations and shipments, like they were my own business. I didn't want to fatten Damian's coffers, but the idea that two men I loved might be sacrificed because I refused… I couldn't allow that.
I stopped seeing Max and Leo in the dorms; maybe we were all busy. When the three of us did cross paths, there was silence. Leo and I argued until it almost boiled over into guns drawn. Max avoided looking at me—he still didn't want to see my face in his orbit.
In the van with ten of Damian's men, I sat with my eyes closed. We'd come from Quezon—where the lab was—and we had bags of processed opium and heroin that would be dropped elsewhere in the south. I handled northern Luzon; other men handled Visayas and Mindanao.
"Xena," someone tapped me gently. We were at the bar that served as Riguel's near-home—Riguel, the syndicate mastermind I was about to do business with. The place was called Hide Out; it hummed loud even from the street. I signaled for the men to unload the drugs; they obeyed and followed me inside.
Dressed in my usual—jeans, boots, denim jacket—I entered. Drunks and people making out blurred into the dim light. A band played on a small stage; the dance floor throbbed with bodies that were either high or drunk. My attention snagged on a man who looked like a starving animal, sucking on a prostitute's lips as if she were prey. I felt bile rise in my mouth as I set two bags of drugs on the table in front of him.
"Twenty kilos of heroin, twenty kilos of ecstasy," I said. "Ten kilos of dry marijuana will follow when you pay the balance—three million."
Riguel stopped what he was doing and turned to me. He shoved the woman off his lap and straightened, his zipper undone, his posture disgusting enough to make me recoil.
"I'll pay tomorrow," he smiled, eyes locked on the opened bag. He motioned for his men to grab it. I drew a gun and pointed it at Riguel. His men froze; he looked up at me, unbothered.
"You can take it if you put the money on the table in front of me. I'm not stupid enough to be fooled twice, Riguel," I said.
In the last drop, he'd tried to cheat me with counterfeit money, and Damian nearly killed me for it. Plus, he still owed three million. I wouldn't let them walk away again.
"Put the cash here—include the fifteen million you didn't give last time. Three-million balance plus fifteen million missing—that's eighteen million for the fifty kilos on the table."
I tapped the tabletop and smiled at Riguel; he didn't like it. He let go of the drugs and leaned back, amused. He signaled a man. My men gathered the packets and placed them at my side; I sat across from him.
"I thought you didn't notice," he said with a laugh. "Alright, Xena—I'll give you the full amount tonight, but I have a condition."
His gaze slid over my body, sticky with lust, and he bit his lip before returning his stare to my face. I felt disgusted. Riguel wasn't just a drug lord—he was involved in murder and rape and was among the country's most wanted.
"If you please me, I'll double the payment. What do you think, Xena?"
I snapped. I kicked the table between us and everything flew. I pressed the gun's barrel to his forehead. His men drew their guns in a flinch; Riguel didn't even flinch. He didn't care if I pulled the trigger.
"What? I have a big appetite and I know you'll enjoy it," he said.
"Shut up, Riguel. You're disgusting."
Riguel's men returned and placed the cash in front of me. Riguel rose too, still smiling, and tossed something at my feet—then winked.
"Come with me," he purred. But before I could answer, a single gunshot cracked the air. One of his men slumped, clutching his thigh. We all turned toward the sound. Riguel's head whipped around and met the barrel of Leo's gun.
"Take the drugs before I change my mind," Leo said coldly.
"Leo, I'm talking to Xena—"
"If this isn't about the transaction, get out. And make sure I don't have access to your sister…" he said.
Riguel's jaw tightened for a beat. Then, after a tense moment, he said, "Take the drugs," and turned without another word. His men filed out with the packages, and Leo left shortly after them.
I ordered my men to follow Leo to the parking lot with the money. I ran after him and caught up; I grabbed his arm and halted him. He turned, annoyed.
"Why did you interfere?" I demanded, and he frowned.
"Excuse me? Should I have stood by and watched you sell your body to Riguel instead of doing your job? Sorry—am I interfering?" His tone was sarcastic, and I flinched away.
"Legolas!" I shouted, anger in my voice.
"What?" he answered flatly. "Should I be grateful to you?"
I was silent. I didn't know why I had chased him, or why I felt angry he'd helped. I sighed and turned my head.
"Next time, don't interfere in my transactions," I said. "Because of you, Riguel left so easily—"
"Oh wow, sorry. Didn't you have a chance to make him happy? Why didn't you just go along? You never said giving your body was part of the deal. Maybe I should have taught Riguel how to tame a wild sheep like you—"
I slapped him hard across the face before I could stop myself. Leo froze, hand to his cheek, stunned.
"I don't know what you mean, Legolas, but that's not what I meant," I said, fists tightening. "You don't know my work, so you have no right to interfere. If your girls obey you because you make them feel like angels, I'm not one of them. I don't kneel for people whose souls are filthy like yours."
Leo sneered and let go of his jaw, glaring at me. He took a step closer; I didn't move.
"Really?" he taunted, stepping even closer. "Maybe you want men to kneel at your feet—so you can have what you want, or kill who you want. Is that it? Tell me, Xena. What did you do to Ace to make him fall so hard for you? How many favors? How intense? How many times—"
I slapped him again, and tears fell with it. I saw shock in his eyes, but the mocking grin lingered.
"Why? Is what I said wrong?" he challenged.
I tried to look away and leave, but Leo's hand was faster than lightning. He grabbed my arm, yanked me back, and pushed me against the hood of a nearby car. I stumbled and leaned against the metal as he stood over me, furious.
"Who's next after Ace? Dad? Max? Or me?"
"You're crazy, Legolas," I said.
"Answer me, Xena!"
His shoulders heaved; he trapped me against the car. Two months had passed—why was he voicing this now? I took a breath and stared straight into his eyes.
"I'm in love with Ace," I said simply.
Surprise washed over his face as if he couldn't believe it. His earlier rage softened; he searched my tear-blurred eyes like trying to find a lie. But when another tear slid down my cheek, he stepped back.
"If I wanted him dead, I wouldn't have called you that night and just let him die. I didn't hurt him. I tried to make him leave. If I were to kneel before any man, it would only be for Ace. For him, I could break my own rules."
"You're lying," Leo accused, then gave me a bitter smile and looked away. I couldn't read his emotions. Moments ago he'd been a roaring tiger; now he was something else. The only thing I could be sure of was that he didn't like what I'd said.
"I wish I were," I murmured, wiping wet tracks from my face. "But I'm not. I love Ace, but I hate it… because he's a Fontanilla."
"What do you mean?"
"I don't want a Fontanilla. Even if he hadn't died, I couldn't lure him or get close to him because I would never want to be tied to anyone from your family."