"It’s gonna take days to ID her," the forensic expert muttered, shaking his head as they loaded my body into the van. "The face is too damaged for a visual, and with no fingerprints, DNA is our only option."
Martinez would never know it was me. Not right away. And even if he did, I wonder if it would’ve mattered. After all, I was never his priority.
For as long as I can remember, Martinez always favored Leo—his adopted son, his enforcer, his right hand in the Mafia. Leo was everything I wasn’t. Loyal. Ruthless. Willing to do whatever it took to climb the ranks of my father’s criminal empire. Meanwhile, I was the daughter kept at arm’s length, shut out from the family business as if I didn’t belong.
Martinez was a king, and Leo was his chosen heir. Me? I was just an afterthought, something to be hidden away.
As I floated there, watching them transport my lifeless body, my mind wandered back to all the times I had tried to be seen by him, to matter. But it was never enough. Martinez never wanted me involved. He made that clear from day one.