Rosa didn't know she was crying until a tear slipped from her chin and tapped against the concrete.
The room was quiet except for her breathing...small, uneven pulls of air she tried to swallow back down. Her stomach throbbed, but it was the heat in her face that burned worst. Shame had a way of spreading deeper than pain.
A hand tangled into her hair.
Her head jerked back.
"Why are you crying?" Antonio asked, almost curious. "What do you have to cry about?"
Rosa bit the inside of her cheek, tasting metal. If she spoke, she would sob. If she sobbed, it would get worse. So she stayed silent.
Across the room, Parez stood still, eyes lowered. His jaw was tight.
Antonio noticed.
"Parez," he said lazily. "Come here."
Parez stepped forward.
Antonio leaned close, voice low enough to sound almost gentle. "Stop holding back. Or I'll remind you who's in charge."
Parez nodded once. He turned to Rosa.
The strike came fast. She folded inward, the air leaving her lungs in a sharp gasp. The world shrank to the sound of her own heartbeat, loud and frantic in her ears.
She stayed on her knees.
The tears kept falling.
Antonio watched her like someone watching a show. "Look at you," he said. "Shaking already."
Something inside Rosa twisted.
Not fear. Not exactly.
Humiliation.
Her fingers dug into the floor. The tears blurred everything the walls, the light, Parez's shadow in front of her.
Then something else surfaced.
A thought she didn't recognize at first.
If I stay like this… it never stops.
Her breathing slowed.
The tears did not.
But her eyes changed.
She moved.
Parez barely had time to react before she lunged forward, knocking him off balance. They hit the floor together. After that, there was no thinking
only motion. Anger she didn't know she had rose up and took control, drowning out pain, drowning out shame.
"That's enough."
Antonio's voice cut through the room.
Rosa froze. Her fists were still clenched in Parez's shirt. Her chest rose and fell like she had been drowning and had only just broken the surface.
She looked down.
Parez's face was bloodied, unfocused. Her hands were shaking, not from fear, but from the force she hadn't known she possessed.
For a moment, she felt something close to relief.
Then Antonio laughed softly.
"Good," he said. "You learn fast."
Rosa pushed herself back, wiping her hands on her clothes. The tremble returned now that it was over.
That was when she noticed Cecilio.
He hadn't moved the entire time.
He stood near the wall, arms stiff at his sides, eyes fixed on the floor like if he looked up, something inside him would break.
Antonio followed her gaze.
"Cecilio," he called. "Did you see that? Your sister's got more spine than you."
Cecilio didn't answer.
Antonio smiled, but it wasn't warm. "Eighteen years old today," he added, lifting his glass. "And already useful. Happy birthday, Rosa."
Rosa's chest tightened.
Useful.
That word landed heavier than any hit.
Antonio walked out like nothing had happened.
The room felt bigger once he left. Emptier.
Cecilio finally moved.
He stepped toward her slowly, like approaching a wounded animal. When he took her hand, his touch was careful
the opposite of everything that had happened tonight.
"You don't have to become this," he said quietly.
Rosa pulled her hand away.
"If I don't," she asked, "then what am I?"
Cecilio didn't have an answer.
And that silence told her everything.
She turned to walk away.
Behind her, Cecilio spoke one last time not loud, not angry. Just sad.
"One day," he said, "you're going to realize he didn't save you."
Rosa paused at the doorway.
"He did," she replied. "You just don't understand what it's like to need saving."
She didn't look back.
And Cecilio didn't try to stop her.
****
That night, Antonio sent for her.
Rosa found him on the rooftop, the city lights stretching endlessly beyond the rails. The wind tugged at her clothes, cool against skin that still ached beneath the surface.
Antonio didn't look at her at first.
"Come here," he said.
She stood beside him. From this height, the streets looked small. People looked like nothing.
"When I found you," Antonio began, "you were curled beside a dumpster. Shaking. Starving."
Rosa lowered her eyes. "Yes, sir."
"I could've walked away," he continued. "Most would have."
She nodded. That part was true.
"But I didn't." He turned to her now. "Do you know why?"
Rosa hesitated. "Because… you're kind?"
Antonio laughed. not loudly, but enough to make her feel foolish.
"No," he said. "Because even then, you weren't begging. You were watching. Like an animal deciding whether to bite or run."
The wind howled between them.
"I invested in you," he said. "Food. Clothes. Training. Time." His gaze sharpened. "Tonight proved I wasn't wrong."
Rosa's chest tightened.
Praise from him felt rare. Precious. Dangerous.
"I used to think women were weak," he continued. "Too soft for this life. But you…" He studied her face like she was something he owned. "You endure."
Rosa swallowed. "Thank you, sir."
He stepped closer.
"If I die," he said plainly, "this empire falls into Cecilio's hands."
Her heart skipped.
"And he will destroy everything I built. Not because he's stupid." Antonio's jaw tightened. "Because he's soft."
Rosa said nothing.
"I don't need you to replace him," Antonio continued. "Blood is blood." His voice dropped. "I need you to control him."
The words settled slowly.
"I want you beside him," he said. "Guiding him. Correcting him. Making sure he does what must be done, even when he doesn't want to."
Rosa's mind raced. Cecilio didn't even want to be here. How could she keep him in a world he hated?
But Antonio was watching. Waiting.
"Yes, sir," she said.
He smiled faintly and placed a hand on her head
not gently, not cruelly. Like claiming property.
"Good girl."
The city lights flickered below.
For the first time, Rosa felt the weight of something invisible settle onto her shoulders.
Not fear.
Responsibility.
Or maybe the beginning of a cage she couldn't see yet.