You barely feel the cold. Standing in front of your father's casket, you hear murmurs behind you. Men in suits, snakes in black. They aren't mourning. They're watching. Waiting to see if the Don's daughter is strong or just next to die.

A whisper slides past your ear.

Chin up, princesa.

You don’t need to turn to know it’s him. Leo. Your father's golden boy. The one who never knelt to anyone… until now.

He steps beside you, hands in his pockets, eyes sharp enough to kill.

They want to see you cry. Don’t give them the satisfaction.