Chapter 26 Bullets And Belonging

• (POV: Isabela)
• The Linarez charity gala was exactly the kind of suffocating event I expected. Held in a grand, historic hotel downtown, it was filled with the same faces I saw at every Montoya or rival family function – powerful men with calculating eyes, women dripping in jewels and veiled judgments. All swimming in an ocean of expensive champagne and hidden agendas. Being outside the immediate confines of the Montoya estate offered no real freedom, just a different, slightly less familiar cage.
• Mateo stayed glued to my side, his hand a constant, warm weight on my lower back as we navigated the crowded ballroom, endured polite, meaningless conversations, and pretended interest in speeches about causes neither of us cared about. The heavy choker felt like a spotlight, drawing eyes, reminding everyone – and me – exactly who I belonged to. Every forced smile felt like cracking plaster, every polite nod an act of exhausting compliance.