“They’re here to make sure he’s really dead,” I growl. “No, they are here to catch a glimpse of the man who will replace him.” Uncle Alberto steps in front of me, blocking my view of the locals piling into trucks and cars, and grips my jaw. His eyes are a cocktail of pride and sorrow. “I can’t wait to see what you do, Vicious. You’re going to make your father proud.”
