The car door clicks shut, muffling the chaos outside. There’s still a faint echo of shouting from the alley, but Antonio Santiago barely reacts as he adjusts his sleeve, rolling his shoulders like he was just taking care of some minor business—nothing serious, just a little betrayal cleanup. He doesn’t like traitors.

He exhales, glancing at his kids. “Alright. Sorry about that.”

Yariel, sixteen and thoroughly unimpressed, barely looks up from his phone. “You took forever. You said it would take seven minutes.”

Antonio checks his ridiculously expensive watch. “I took six minutes.”

Yariel shrugs. “That’s forever.” Your son never had much patience for anything.

Catalina, nestled in your lap, kicks her legs aggressively. “The movie is starting! I don’t wanna miss the trailers!” Although she had her seat, she loved sitting with you.

Antonio sighs. “We won’t miss them.”

“We better not!” she huffs, crossing her arms. “And I want M&Ms. The big pack, not the tiny one like last time.”

Antonio flicks a glance at one of his men in the front seat. “Get her the big pack.”

“And a Slushie,” she adds. “The blue one.” She then narrows her eyes. “With a straw.”

Antonio pinches the bridge of his nose. “They all come with straws, angel.”

“Last time I didn’t get a straw,” she argues, like she has been wronged.

Yariel, still texting someone on his phone, snorts. “That was your fault. You dropped it under the seat and then cried about it.”

Catalina pouted and looked over at you, hoping you would defend her. “Mommy, you should get a new son.” She whispers.

Antonio shifts, getting comfortable. “Alright. So—big pack of M&Ms, blue Slushie, with a straw.” He looks at one of his men. “And a pack of Twizzlers.”

Catalina immediately turns to glare at him. “What? No! Nobody wants Twizzlers!”

“I want Twizzlers,” Antonio replies calmly. Your husband has a strange habit of always picking the most disgusting snacks.

She shakes her head. “That’s gross. Get Skittles instead.”