The world tilted beneath my feet as I stared at Antonio's face. Every feature was exactly as I remembered from childhood, but hardened by years I thought he had never lived. His eyes held the cold calculation of someone who had learned to survive in the shadows.
Lucky moved instinctively to shield me, but Antonio's men already had their weapons trained on us. The tactical gear they wore was military grade, not the improvised equipment of street criminals.
"You died," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "I watched them lower your coffin into the ground."
Antonio stepped closer, and I caught the faint scent of expensive cologne mixed with gun oil. "You watched them bury an empty box filled with rocks, sister. Father thought it was necessary to protect me from Syndicate retaliation."
"P
