𝗙𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗕𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝗩𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗮 𝗨𝗻𝗶𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗲.
I never thought my world would crumble at the hands of a man like Alessandro Rossi-a 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 draped in silk suits and ruthlessness. One moment, I was Yasenia Fraga, daughter of the...
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"The fuck are you saying, Miguel?" Alessandro snarled, grabbing Miguel's arm before he could burst back into Diego's office. "The fuck are saying!"
Miguel yanked his arm free, getting right up in Alessandro's face, his voice deadly quiet. "I'm saying Diego Rossi killed my father, Alessandro. My father!"
Alessandro moved to block the door, standing between Miguel and whatever retribution he intended for Diego. But I knew Miguel too well—there was no reasoning with him when he got like this. His hands gripped the gun tightly, and the sight of Alessandro standing in his way seemed only to fuel his fury. If that was even possible.
I felt like the world around me was closing in. My heart hammered as memories crashed over me, memories I'd buried so deep I thought they'd stay hidden forever. Uncle Manuel. His face pale, the blood pooling beneath him as he tried to shield my mother from those men ten years ago. They said they never knew who'd ordered the hit, who'd tried to take my mother out that day and ended up killing Manuel instead. We'd lived with those unanswered questions for years. And now, we knew who the answer was.
"I don't give a flying FUCK if he's your father, Alessandro," Miguel spat at Alessandro. "I'm going to kill him myself!"
"If he's responsible," Alessandro hissed, his voice straining to maintain its composure, "Then I will handle it. Blood or no blood, I won't fucking hesitate!"
Miguel's jaw clenched, but he shook his head. "You can't touch him. The Commission would never let you get away with going after the Don."
Alessandro scoffed, barely masking his contempt. "I'll worry about the Commission."
A tense silence hung between them until, finally, Miguel stepped back, just enough to let Alessandro through. Without a second's hesitation, Alessandro disappeared through the office door, slamming it behind him. I was left alone in the hall with Miguel.
He paced like a caged animal, waiting for Alessandro, but I doubted he'd wait for long. I watched him, sensing the anger radiating off him, unfiltered and terrifying, nd I couldn't blame him. Uncle Manuel's death had left a scar on Miguel's heart that would never truly heal. I took a cautious step closer.
"Miguel," I started softly. "Como sabías que era Diego quen...? (how did you know it was Diego who...?)"
He stopped, looking at me with a fury I hadn't seen before. "O cabrón miroume directamente aos ollos, Yesenia! (the bastard looked me straight in the eyes)" he roared, voice hoarse and shaking. "El presumiu como se lle gañase unha puta lotería ou algo así! (he bragged about it like he won a fucking lottery or something!)"
My breath caught, and a sick feeling twisted in my stomach. How could anyone be so devoid of humanity, so utterly depraved, to take a life and then boast about it? I shuddered at the thought.
"For ten years, Yesenia," Miguel said, his voice quieter. "For ten years, I've wanted to know who killed my father. And it was that son of a bitch. All this time."
