Prologue
Sophia Chavez
Halloween 2024
Halloween night is my favorite night of the year. The air hums with mischief and possibility, the faint tang of smoke from jack-o’-lanterns curling around the manicured gardens of our estate. Papa’s parties are legendary—so many faces, so much glittering wealth, laughter echoing through the halls—it’s the perfect cover for slipping away unnoticed. I do just that, ducking out once his speeches finish, once he’s paraded his latest female prize like a trophy.
Mother died a year after I was born, leaving Papa with three sons and me—his little princess, wrapped in silk and shields. I’m twenty-two now, a woman of my own mind, but the rules are clear: I am to stay ignorant of the family business. Of course, it doesn’t take a genius to see the truth. Papa and my brothers control one of the most powerful cartels in the country, their names whispered in fear as easily as they are praised in society.
My role is simple: earn a university degree, marry a wealthy, connected man, bear grandchildren, and never step foot into the world I truly crave. The world of art. I adore it. Painting, sketching, sculpting—it’s the one place where I can be myself, free from Papa’s shadows. I had dreamed of Paris, of wanderingthe galleries along the Seine, of absorbing centuries of beauty, of living a life that belonged to me. But Papa’s answer was always the same:stay here, my princess, your life is already chosen.
This year was different. I finished my bachelor’s degree a year early, my final project a piece of defiance and devotion all at once. And tonight… tonight I can taste the possibility of freedom in the crisp fall air.
I slip through the throng of guests, heels clicking softly against the marble floors, my painted face a mask of color and bone instead of leather or velvet masks. The Day of the Dead makeup smudges slightly under my lashes, but I don’t care. Papa appreciated the effort I went to in using my skills to cover my identity, but was disappointed he could not show off his beautiful daughter.
The gardens are quiet once I reach them, the warm chatter of the party fading behind me. Flickering lanterns hang from the trees, casting skeletal shadows across the hedges. I breathe in deep, tasting the crisp air tinged with the sweet decay of fallen leaves, and for the first time tonight, I feel untethered.
Free.
My friend Maria is waiting on the other side of our estate, crouched in the shadows in her car. I slip through the fence and tap on her window, scaring her half to death.
“Sophia! I thought your father was here to teach me a lesson!”
Laughing, I move around the car and get in. “Sorry. He has no idea. Calm down.”
“Youcalm down. You’re not the one who’s going to be wearing cement shoes if anything happens to you.” Maria tilts her head and eyes my costume. “Side note, you look hot. How did your papa feel about your boobs being on display?”
“He didn’t notice the costume, only that my face was covered.”
We laugh. Maria knows how protective my father and brothers are—they practically suffocate me.
She puts the car in drive, and we leave my family and their secrets behind.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
Maria raises her eyebrows and grins. “Only the best party in Miami!”
“You say that every year.”
“Girl, that’s because Itakeyou to the best parties every year.”
“Where’s your costume?”
“In the back. I can’t drive with it on. You’re going to love it.”
Maria is five foot with long dark curly hair and the biggest brown eyes, but her Halloween costumes are always… weird. One year she went as a pumpkin, another year as Beetlejuice. She never shows off her curves or how pretty she is.
Downtown Miami comes alive outside the windshield, neon reflecting off the wet streets, the hum of traffic blending with distant music. Maria suddenly throws the car into reverse and parks.
“Ha! Got ourselves a good park. We won’t have far to walk.”
“That’s good. Maybe my whiplash will appreciate the shorter distance,” I say, laughing.
“Pfft!” Maria waves me off and jumps out of the car. She digs into the trunk and pulls out a bright orange Halloween basket, huge, with a handle. She steps inside, hoists it up her body, and clips it to her black shorts so it won’t fall.
“You’re a candy bucket?”
“Yep.”
