The doors of the villa groaned as Alejandra stepped inside, the silence of the foyer a sharp contrast to the symphony of gunfire still ringing in her ears.
She peeled off her leather jacket, the material stiff and tacky with drying blood.
"Another one destroyed by these animals," she muttered, tossing the ruined garment onto a marble side table without a second glance.
It was an expensive loss, but she had more pressing concerns than tailoring.
Across the room, the television flickered to life with a sharp, electronic hiss.
Alejandra didn't reach for the remote; she knew the signal.
A high-definition feed blinked on, revealing her mother, Quin, sitting in an ornate study miles away.
"Mi amor," Quin said, her voice smooth as silk but edged with iron.
"Mami," Alejandra replied, her posture softening only slightly. "How are you?"
"I am well. But I heard the news. Are you whole? Are you safe?"
"I'm fine. There's no need for the dramatics." Alejandra forced a smile, though her bones ached.
Quin leaned forward, her eyes narrowing. "And your staff? Was anyone else... broken?"
Alejandra let out a long, jagged sigh.
"Did Abuela not give you the full report? If she had the breath to tell you the restaurant was a graveyard, I'm sure she didn't leave out the details of my line cook."
A cough sounded from off-camera, and Quin offered an awkward, tight-lipped smile.
"She mentioned a few things, mija. But not everything."
"Like I told her," Alejandra snapped, her exhaustion turning into a sharp edge of anger.
"I am not firing the girl. I owe her that much."
"You're getting soft, amore," a new voice crackled through the speakers.
The camera panned to reveal Abuela, the matriarch whose shadow governed half of Mexico.
She stepped into the frame with a smirk that didn't reach her eyes.
"I was wondering when you'd show your face. Why this sudden urge to play protector? Is she just an employee, or is there more to this little girl than we know?"
"Do you defend all your kitchen staff with such fire?" Quin added, her curiosity piqued.
"I am responsible for her being in that hospital bed," Alejandra said, her voice dropping into a dangerous register.
"I won't discard her like trash just because she was caught in my crossfire."
"We can pay for the damage, Alex," Abuela countered, waving a hand dismissively.
"Ten million, twenty, thirty—give her a life of luxury and hire someone who isn't a liability."
"Abuela, I'm not firing her. That is my final decision."
Quin's expression shifted to one of genuine concern.
"Alex, we only want what's best. We don't want you hurt again. Have you forgotten the last time you let someone in? Have you forgotten what happened?"
"Who could forget?" Abuela cackled.
"Sent to eliminate a rival, and she falls in love with the target's son instead. What was his name?"
"Mateo," Quin reminded her.
"Ah, yes. Mateo. You trusted him, and he handed your heart back to you on a blade."
"Actually, he died, madre," Quin said flatly.
"The point stands," Abuela said, her voice turning cold.
"You have an opportunity to excise this girl before she becomes a tumor. She could be a spy, a plant, a long-term play."
Alejandra didn't answer. Instead, her mind drifted back to the hospital room—to Sunny's pale face and the strange, quiet conviction in her voice.
"I don't need your money, Chef," Sunny had said, her voice a fragile thread.
"I love my job. I love working with you. If you want to compensate me... just let me be your friend."
The memory felt surreal in the context of Alejandra's violent world. Friendship?
She looked at her mother and grandmother—women who dealt in blood and leverage—and compared them to Sunny, who had looked at her with a weak, genuine smile and asked for nothing but a connection.
Is she harmless? Alejandra wondered. Or is she the best liar I've ever met?
"Alex? Are you listening?" Quin's voice snapped her back to the present.
"I'm listening, Mami."
"Fine," Abuela said, standing to leave the room.
"I won't pry further for now. But hear me: if anything goes wrong, if she so much as breathes suspiciously, I will pull the trigger myself. Regardless of your feelings."
When Abuela left, the tension in the call dissipated slightly.
"¿Estás herida, querida?" Quin asked softly.
"I won't get hurt, Mami. I promise."
"And the man who led the raid?"
"Dead," Alejandra said, her voice devoid of emotion.
"They won't be bothering me again."
"Good. Your brother is handling the emergency logistics. He says the restaurant will be rebuilt and ready in two weeks." Quin blew a kiss toward the camera. "Talk soon, mi sol."
The screen went black. Alejandra collapsed onto the velvet couch, staring at the ceiling.
Why had she defended Sunny? Was it guilt? Or was it the way the girl looked at her—as if Alejandra were a person rather than a title or a threat?
"She's innocent. She's... cute," Alejandra whispered to the empty room. She immediately winced. "Stop. It's the adrenaline. Or the scotch."
She had to keep her guard up. In her world, the people who asked for friendship were usually the ones who eventually held the knife.
Four days had passed since the blood and the stitches.
The hospital was a memory, replaced by the salt air and the rhythmic roar of the ocean.
Audrey had insisted on a beach day, forcing Sunny into the sun.
Audrey herself was draped in oversized linens and a wide-brimmed hat, hiding her recognizable face from the few tourists scattered along the sand.
Sunny sat on a beach towel, her eyes fixed on Ariana as she chased a shrieking, giggling Sofia across the shoreline, trying to coat the child in sunscreen.
"Are you all right?" Audrey asked, sitting beside her.
Sunny snapped out of her trance. "I'm good."
"Don't give me that," Audrey said, her sharp eyes scanning Sunny's posture. "Do you feel pain?"
"No, I'm—"
"Sunny, I'm not Ariana. You can't lie to me."
Sunny let out a shaky breath, her hand drifting toward her side.
"Fine. It's bad. It feels like my insides are on the outside. Every time I breathe, it's like a hot wire."
Audrey's face hardened. "Your stitches are loose. Why the hell are we at the beach? We should be in the ER."
"I know," Sunny whispered, watching Sofia build a lopsided sandcastle.
"But look at her. Baby Bear was so happy when she heard we were coming out. I didn't want to ruin it."
"Bitch, what's more important? Your life or a toddler's afternoon in the sand?"
Sunny bit her lip, her face contorting in confusion and pain.
"I'm telling Ariana. We're leaving," Audrey said, starting to rise.
Sunny grabbed her wrist. "Wait! Just... a little longer. Please."
Audrey groaned, scratching her head in frustration.
"You are literally gambling with your life right now."
"I just can't go back yet," Sunny admitted, her voice trembling.
"I can't afford another bill, Audrey. I'm hoping if I just stay still, it'll heal itself."
"Money? Is that what this is?" Audrey looked offended.
"I can handle the money, Sunny. Whatever you need, it's done."
"It's not just that. I'm scared," Sunny confessed.
Audrey sighed, softening. "Fine. We stay for thirty minutes. But the second I see you turn pale, I am tossing you in the car and driving like a maniac. Deal?"
"Deal."
Ariana jogged back to them, breathless and smelling of coconut oil.
"What are you two whispering about?"
"Nothing!" Sunny said quickly.
Sofia ran up behind them, pouting.
"Mama Bear! Aunty Bear tried to kill me with the white cream and you didn't help!"
"Baby Bear, it's for your own good," Sunny laughed, though the movement made her wince.
"If you don't wear it, you'll have to go back to the hospital, and we don't want that."
Sofia paused, considering this. To her, the hospital meant pudding and cartoons, but the beach was better.
"How about we look for treasures?" Sunny suggested, trying to distract herself from the throbbing in her side.
"Treasures? Here?" Sofia's eyes went wide.
"The beach has a thousand secrets," Sunny said, pointing toward the tide line.
"If you look with your heart, you might even find pirate gold."
"Pirates!" Sofia screamed in delight, sprinting toward the water.
"Sunny, don't you dare run after her!" Ariana yelled.
But Sunny was already standing, her hand pressed hard against her side, watching the little girl chase the waves.
The world felt bright and loud, a temporary reprieve from the grey shadows of Alejandra's world—even if every step felt like a slow-motion disaster.
Sunny offered a weak thumbs-up, her voice a low, rhythmic murmur of "mm-hmm" as she watched Sofia chase the tide.
She looked fragile against the vastness of the ocean, a small figure held together by grit and medical thread.
Ariana sank into the sand next to Audrey, her eyes narrowed with suspicion.
"What were you two actually whispering about?"
"Nothing much," Audrey lied smoothly, her gaze fixed on the horizon.
"Just reminding her to take it easy. She's stubborn."
"She's more than stubborn," Ariana sighed, leaning back on her elbows.
"Ever since Melissa died, Sunny's been trying to carry the weight of the whole world. She's trying so hard to make everything work that she's breaking herself. It hurts to watch."
"It pisses me off," Audrey snapped, her voice suddenly sharp.
"The fact that her boss hasn't even shown her face since the incident? It's insulting."
"You can't entirely blame Alejandra," Ariana countered softly.
"I can't blame her?" Audrey turned, her eyes flashing with a cold, buried fire.
"Are you joking? She is the reason Sunny is lying in a hospital bed with a hole in her side. That woman belongs to the most dangerous mafia legacy on the planet—a family feared by everyone with a pulse—and you're defending her? If it were up to me, Sunny would never breathe the same air as a Castello again."
"Sunny likes her," Ariana said helplessly.
"She refuses to even discuss quitting. Believe me, I've tried to talk sense into her, but she won't listen."
"I know Sunny is a hopeless romantic," Audrey muttered, "but being a romantic around Alejandra Castello is a death sentence."
Ariana studied Audrey's profile, noticing the way her jaw tightened at the mention of the name.
"Why do I get the feeling you know her? Personally."
Audrey went still. The sound of the waves seemed to grow louder, filling the silence.
She contemplated the weight of the secret she had carried across borders and years.
"It's a long story," she finally whispered.
"I'm listening," Ariana said, her voice steady.
Audrey took a breath that felt like it was pulling in the salt and the cold of the Atlantic.
"Sunny must never know. Promise me."
"My lips are sealed."
"Years ago, my family was one of the wealthiest in Paris," Audrey began, her voice distant, as if she were reading from a ghost's diary.
"We owned companies, private estates... we were the elite. But my father dealt in shadows. He had illegal business interests that I hated. The Castello family wanted in, but my father was proud—he refused them. For a few months, everything seemed fine. We thought they had moved on."
She paused, digging her fingers into the sand.
"Then she showed up. A woman named Nella Larsen. she applied for a position as a bodyguard. She was flawless, professional... but something felt wrong. My brother, Jack, was the one who chose her. He insisted she be his personal detail."
"Jack?" Ariana whispered.
"Alejandra called him Mateo," Audrey said, a bitter smile touching her lips.
"He was captivated by her. It was like a spell. I tried to warn him, to stop him from falling, but weeks turned into months. They were in love—or so I thought. I eventually buried my doubts because I wanted him to be happy."
Audrey's voice trembled. "Then came the night the world went black. We were attacked. They killed my parents first. In the chaos, my brother handed me a briefcase of cash and a stack of documents—the very ones the Castellos wanted. He told me to hide. I found a crawlspace and watched through the vents."
"Nella—Alejandra—walked into the room. She wasn't alone. She was with a man whose very presence felt like a predator suffocating its prey: Antonio Santiago Castello. Her brother."
Audrey's eyes were glassy, seeing the past projected onto the waves.
"I watched my brother beg for his life. I watched him look at the woman he loved for some shred of mercy. But Antonio was adamant. And Alejandra? She just stood there. She watched with cold eyes as her brother pulled the trigger and ended Jack's life. They searched for the documents for hours, but they never found me. When they left, I was the only one left in a house filled with blood and money."
"I changed my identity," Audrey continued. "I sold the empire, took my inheritance, and fled the country. I became a ghost so they couldn't find the girl who saw them do it."
Ariana sat in stunned silence. "Doesn't it... doesn't it bother you?"
"What?"
"The fact that you never got the chance to avenge them. To kill the people who took everything."
Audrey looked at Ariana, her expression weary.
"I would give anything for revenge. But staying alive is more important. It would be a waste of their sacrifice if I threw my life away on a suicide mission. That's why I'll do anything to keep you and Sunny safe. I've lost enough people. I'm not losing you two."
The heavy confession was broken by a small, sandy hand tugging on Audrey's sleeve.
"Aunty Orange! I'm bored," Sofia pouted, her face sticky with salt. "I wanna go to the rollercoaster!"
Audrey blinked, the ghost of Paris fading as she looked down at the little girl.
She forced a smile, the mask sliding back into place.
"Alright, Baby Bear. Go get changed. We're going to the amusement park."