The vow and the vendetta

pte

nce Betwe

inst the window, the cool glass pressing her forehead. She hadn't touched her violin in weeks. The bow

threatened the

tate on the hill. The place she once called home

otes she couldn't bear to hear. Messages filled with concern, warning,

aunted her more th

something.

wou

gun, Isabella allowed herself to breathe. Just for a moment. The war hadn't b

t y

recision, and quiet obedience. Her father, Kennedy Sanchez, had insisted on it. A daughter, beautiful and brilliant, was

rs and scotch, Isabella performed-an elegant distraction. Senators applauded. Wealthy donors whispered praises. She was the

, she had

he long nights he never came home and the red lip

a mansion; it was a fortress of influence. Hidden rooms, safes in walls, unm

with secrets tuc

e she became a trophy. She'd taught Isabella not to ask too many

ed that silence was her fa

disappeared

dosed under myster

he stairs a week after thr

affairs were spun as charm. His enemies ended up discredited or dead. Isabella didn't

upposed to d

gle gunshot. No witnesses.

Hernandez's face-her father's lon

refused to talk. When he handed her a small revolver wrapped in a scarf, he woul

of the cameras, and flew out the next day. "Don't dig, Bella," she whi

no longer content

r obedient. Grief

whispered things to her-pieces of names, foreign phrases, old friends resurfacing with desperate urgency

as gone when she

s the

er father knew. Someth

as going t

e was supposed to. The housekeeper claimed the senator had been under stress. T

ve. She knew these w

, she wandered through the halls with her violin case slung over her shou

ables into modern lessons: "Power isn't given, Isa. It's taken. Like a violin-

derstood wh

ol. And someone had ta

were innocuous-notes about meetings, policy drafts, ramblings about voter

coded conversation. Mentions of a "Project Sol

ing he hadn't told her.

t terrif

his arms and his steady presence. She didn't call Rachel. She di

cans behind the greenhouse. Rea

he king, Isabella was the heir

d with orchids and rare herbs-was reduced to ash in

ing documents hidden inside a ceramic planter. Files

it was n

ed through her violin case. The gun remained, untouched. But a

mportant. Unless the

rnandez

sited, it looked staged, as if someone wanted her to believe he lef

ssure ti

ent out. Her generator kicked in, but the silence befo

corrupted. Someone had accessed her clou

re too ma

sts breathing

ar had

o longer just

s pulli