ALEJANDRO’S POVThe Castillo Mansion was a cathedral of quiet wealth.And it was a cold and quiet as a graveyard. long mahogany table. Crystal chandelier. Expensive china no one ever touched without gloves. The kind of place that was built for the dead rather than the living.But here we were, for me, twenty one years and counting.I sat across from my little brother, Diego, who was, as always, hunched over his phone, fingers tapping fast. God only knows what he was really doing on his phone since he failed to have friends and made it his personal statement that social media was for retards like me.My mother, Isabella, looked radiant in a soft silk blouse, though she kept glancing nervously at my father at the head of the table.She was like a quiet trophy wife, just present to keep my father's name as a husband and father.Guillermo Castillo.Head of Castillo Pharmaceuticals. My father. My nightmare.He was cutting his steak with surgeon-like precision, silent, sharp and every mo
Huling Na-update : 2025-09-25
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