The night was darker than usual, and the wind howled as if it carried every secret Elena had tried to bury. She drove in silence, her hands trembling on the steering wheel. Alejandro's voice echoed again and again in her mind — "Ask Lorenzo… he owes me blood."
She didn't even remember how she got back to the mansion. Her eyes were blank, her heart torn between rage and heartbreak. When she finally stepped inside, the lights were still on. Lorenzo was pacing the living room, his jaw clenched, worry written all over his face.
"Elena," he breathed out, rushing toward her. "Where the hell have you been? I was losing my mind!"
She stood still, her eyes fixed on him. He reached to hold her, but she didn't move — not even a blink. He froze when he saw the blood on her hands.
"Whose blood is that?" he whispered.
"Does it matter?" she said coldly, walking past him.
"Elena—"
She turned sharply, her voice cutting through the air. "When were you going to tell me you had a deal with Alejandro?"
Lorenzo's entire body went stiff. The name hit him like a bullet. For a second, he didn't breathe.
"What?" he said, his tone carefully calm.
"You heard me," she replied, her voice steady but deadly. "He found me, Lorenzo. He told me everything. He said you owed him blood."
He took a slow step toward her, his face unreadable. "You're mistaken, Elena. I don't even know who that is."
"Don't lie to me!" she shouted, slamming her hand on the table. "Don't you dare lie to me again!"
Her chest rose and fell, her heart breaking faster than her voice could catch up.
Lorenzo clenched his fists, anger flashing in his eyes. "You don't understand this world. I've done things — terrible things — to protect you. To keep you alive."
"Protect me?" she scoffed, tears spilling down her cheeks. "Protect me from what, Lorenzo? From my own blood? From who I really am?"
He looked at her then — really looked at her — and saw the storm he had created. She wasn't the same woman he once met. She wasn't weak, or scared, or soft. She was fire now, and he was the fuel that fed it.
"Elena, please," he said, his voice breaking for the first time. "Everything I did was for you. I didn't want him to find you. I didn't want him to use you the way he used everyone else."
"Use me?" she laughed bitterly. "You sound just like him. You think you're saving me, but all you're doing is caging me. You and him… you both lied to me, and you both call it protection."
He slammed his fist against the wall, frustration bursting from every word. "Damn it, Elena! I made a deal with that monster years ago! Before I even met you. I owed him men, territory, blood — everything that kept me alive! And when I found out who you were, I couldn't let him take you back!"
She froze. The room went silent.
"You knew?" she whispered. "You knew all along who he was?"
He didn't answer. He couldn't.
Her voice shook as she continued. "And you let me live a lie? You let me kill my own father while knowing he wasn't even my real one? You looked me in the eyes every day and said you loved me while hiding the truth?"
Lorenzo's voice cracked. "Elena, you don't know what that man is capable of. If I had told you, he would've come for you sooner. You would've been dead before we even—"
"Before what?" she cut in. "Before I fell in love with you? Before I became your weakness?"
He didn't speak. His silence was the answer she feared.
Tears burned her eyes, but she didn't let them fall. "You were never protecting me," she said softly. "You were protecting yourself."
She turned and walked toward the door, her heart breaking with every step. Lorenzo followed, but she stopped him with a look so sharp it cut deeper than any blade.
"If he wants war," she said, her voice low and cold, "I'll give him one. But it won't be his war. It'll be mine."
"Elena, please—"
"No, Lorenzo." She looked back, her eyes shimmering with fury and pain. "You had your secrets. Now it's my turn."
She walked to her room, locked the door, and dropped her gun on the floor. Her whole body was shaking, her soul caught between love and vengeance. She sat by the window, the moonlight bathing her face, and pressed a hand to her heart.
She remembered Alejandro's words again — "Your father is the most powerful man in Mexico."
And now she knew the truth: every battle she had fought, every tear she had shed, every person she had lost… it was all connected by the same bloodline she never knew she carried.
Her hands trembled as she picked up the gun again. "You wanted to protect me, Lorenzo," she whispered to herself. "Now I'll protect you — even if it means becoming the monster they created."
The night was still, but her heart was anything but calm. Somewhere out there, Alejandro was preparing for war — and now, so was she.
For the first time in her life, Elena didn't feel fear.
She felt power.
She felt destiny burning in her veins.
And she whispered into the dark,
"Let the war begin."