I hear her footsteps on the stairs, then the guest room door close.
I stand alone in the kitchen and feel the crushing pressure I'm under.
I don't have time to fuss with a bullheaded woman while trying to defend my organization against an attack.
And I don't have the patience for it either.
I walk to the living room and stand in front of the Christmas tree.
The lights blink in slow rhythm.
Gold and white ornaments hang from the branches.
It looks ridiculous in this house.
Out of place.
Wrong.
But Sofia said it was pretty.
She said it was sad that I had nobody to decorate for.
I think about my own childhood.
My father was always working, managing the organization, putting the family business ahead of everything else.
I barely saw him during the holidays.
Christmas was just another day when he had meetings and deals to close.
I told myself it didn't matter, that I didn't need him around.
But I did.
I needed my father.
And he was never there.
Now I have a daughter who doesn't know me.
Who looks at me like I'm a monster.
And maybe I am.
Maybe Angelica's right.
Maybe Sofia is better off without me.
I turn away from the tree and walk upstairs to my room then strip off my blood-stained shirt and throw it in the trash.
Then I stand under the shower and let the hot water wash away the evidence of tonight.
This is who I am.
A killer, a ruthless dictator of a leader who forces people to bow to my will.
And somehow, I have to find a way to protect the people I care about without destroying them in the process.
