Rosita stepped out of the boutique with two large shopping bags in her hand, humming softly as she admired the ring on her finger—the same ring that once belonged to her sister. The sun was warm, the breeze gentle, and she wore a smile far too bright for a woman whose sister had died barely a month ago.

Her guard opened the back door of the black SUV for her. “Miss Rosita, we should leave now. The boss is expecting you soon.”

She slid inside, crossing her legs, checking herself in the ...