Chapter 17 - Shadows in the Sunlight
A month of idyllic peace settled over the city, but in Virgilio’s line of work, absolute peace was always an illusion.
The Grand Square in the historic district was bustling with weekend crowds. The front window of *Reyes Florals* displayed vibrant bouquets of white lilies, crimson roses, and wild mountain lavender.
Inside, Clara laughed as she trimmed the stems of a grand centerpiece. Diego was in the back room humming softly, organizing boxes of fresh soil and ceramic vases.
The brass bell above the shop door chimed.
Clara turned around with a bright, welcoming smile. "Welcome to Reyes—"
The words died in her throat.
Standing in the doorway was a tall, strikingly beautiful woman in her late twenties. She wore a stylish beige trench coat, dark sunglasses, and had an aura of sharp, unmistakable intelligence.
The woman pulled down her sunglasses, revealing piercing hazel eyes that mirrored Virgilio’s exact gaze.
"You must be Clara," the woman said, her voice smooth and measured.
Clara’s hands trembled against the flower stems. "Isabella?"
Isabella Marcelo smiled—a warm, genuine smile that instantly broke all tension in the room. She stepped inside, closing the door behind her.
"It took my brother seven years to invite me back to this city," Isabella said, walking toward the counter. "When he called me last week, he sounded different. The rage was gone from his voice. I had to come see the miracle for myself."
Clara felt heat rush to her cheeks as she stepped out from behind the counter. "He loves you very much, Isabella. He talks about you with so much pride, and so much regret."
Isabella reached out, gently clasping Clara’s hands. "He didn't fail me, Clara. I was young, stubborn, and I blamed him for the sins of the world we were born into. But what he did for you... that was the Virgilio I always knew lived beneath the armor."
Before Clara could reply, the door chimed again.
Mateo stepped in, his expression unusually grim. He nodded respectfully toward Isabella. "Miss Isabella. It’s good to see you home."
Then, Mateo turned to Clara. "Where is the boss?"
"He’s at El Puente going over the district accounts," Clara replied, sensing the sudden shift in the air. "Mateo, what’s wrong?"
Mateo leaned in, lowering his voice so Diego wouldn't hear from the back.
"A private jet landed at the municipal airstrip forty minutes ago from Europe," Mateo whispered. "Don Salvatore Marcelo has returned."
Isabella gasped, her face draining of color. "Our uncle? He was exiled to Sicily ten years ago!"
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"He’s back," Mateo said darkly. "And he’s brought thirty foreign mercenaries with him. He claims Virgilio has grown soft by going to war over a waitress, and he’s convening an emergency council tonight to seize control of the family syndicate."
***