Chapter 29 Bloodlines And Loyalties

• ⊰ Marcel ⊱
• Standing here, in the dim light of the parlor, the warmth of the scotch I sip on barely cuts through the cold tension that has settled over me. My father, Guillermo, his gaze as sharp as the edge of a knife, watches me, breaking the silence between us. “Thinking about that girl, eh?” He probes, his voice a mix of curiosity and a father’s intuition.
• It breaks through the hardness of my features, a sheepish smirk twitching the corners of my mouth as I shake my head and bring the glass to my lips once more. “Come on, boy. Soy tu papá. Un padre sabe,” he presses.