Chapter 121 – Daphne POV
Apart from Luciano's little show of testosterone and inherited delusion, no one else has dared to bother me.
Perfect.
I like it that way.
The family may whisper behind their glasses and trade glances thick with judgment, but none of them have the guts to say it to my face. Not with Julie flanking me like a vengeful saint in stilettos and eyeliner sharp enough to carve bone.
They know better.
Now we're going to church.
---
The Castellanos don't do modest ceremonies.
They do pageantry disguised as grief.
A long motorcade lines the estate's circular driveway—black luxury cars polished to a mirror shine. Men in crisp suits adjust their cuffs like they're preparing for battle. Women in veils and diamonds cry without ruining their mascara.
I sit in the back of the second car with Julie, legs crossed, hands resting on my lap.
