CHAPTER 3: The Funeral

"Are you ready to see your dad?" Enzo asked quietly. "If you are... let's go."

Adriana did not answer right away. Her feet suddenly felt impossibly heavy, as though they were rooted to the ground.

Was she really ready?

How could anyone ever prepare themselves to see their own father lying lifeless inside a coffin?

She swallowed hard, forcing herself to nod despite the knot tightening in her throat. "Let's go."

Without another word, Enzo walked over and opened the passenger door of the Bugatti for her. Adriana climbed inside silently while Yaya Jona joined the Trio in the security vehicle following behind them.

Moments later, the convoy pulled away from the airport. Silence filled the luxury car. The low hum of the engine and the distant sounds of passing traffic were the only things either of them could hear.

Adriana rested her head against the window, absentmindedly watching the unfamiliar streets of Manila pass by. Everything felt foreign now. This used to be home. Now it felt like a country she no longer belonged to.

After several minutes of silence, she finally spoke. "Is there something you want to tell me?"

She never looked at him. Her eyes remained fixed outside the window.

Enzo glanced at her briefly before returning his attention to the road. "What do you mean, Miss Adriana?"

"You know exactly what I mean." Her voice became colder. "Don't play dumb with me, Lorenzo."

She finally turned toward him.

"When I was still in Madrid, you told me something." Her eyes narrowed. "You said my father's death wasn't an accident."

A tense silence settled inside the car.

"What exactly did you mean by that?" Adriana asked.

Enzo's relaxed expression disappeared almost instantly. His jaw tightened.

"This isn't the right time."

Adriana let out a bitter laugh. "The right time?"

She turned her entire body toward him.

"I am his daughter." Her voice trembled—not from fear, but from frustration. "If anyone has the right to know the truth, it's me."

Without thinking, she grabbed Enzo's arm tightly.

"So tell me..."

Enzo immediately pulled one hand away from the steering wheel and gently removed hers.

"Please stop, Miss Adriana." His tone remained calm. "We're on the highway. If you keep distracting me like this, we're going to get into an accident."

She scoffed before throwing herself back against her seat. "I can't believe this..." She muttered in Spanish before continuing. "Tengo derecho a saber la verdadera razón de su muerte. ¿Por qué nadie quiere decirme la verdad? (I have the right to know the real reason behind his death. Why won't anyone tell me the truth?)”

Enzo sighed.

"You know…” He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. "I only understand very basic Spanish. So if you're cursing at me right now... I honestly wouldn't know."

Despite everything she was feeling… Adriana rolled her eyes. "I hate you, Lorenzo! You sent me that message. You told me dad's death wasn't an accident. And now that I'm asking you to explain yourself… you suddenly can't say anything?" She stared at him. "Are you playing games with me?"

Enzo immediately shook his head. "It's not like that."

"Then what is it?" Her voice rose again. "What are you hiding from me? What do you know that you're refusing to tell me, because I don't understand your logic anymore!"

For several long seconds, Enzo remained silent. His grip around the steering wheel tightened.

"There are things..." He spoke carefully. "...that are better discussed in the right place."

Adriana frowned. "And where exactly is this 'right place'? It's just the two of us here. No reporters, no relatives, no strangers. It’s just you and me in this fucking car, so tell me… what place could possibly be better than this?"

Enzo let out a slow breath.

"Please be patient. Everything has already been arranged." He paused before continuing. "The most important thing right now is for you to see your father." His voice softened. “I'm sure wherever Don Alejandro is now, he's happy that you finally came home."

Adriana looked away. She wanted to argue. She wanted to force him to talk. But somehow, his words stole the strength from her.

She leaned back into her seat and closed her eyes. The rest of the drive passed in complete silence.

Thirty minutes later, the Bugatti slowly entered a massive private memorial compound. Adriana's eyes widened. Luxury vehicles worth millions were parked in perfect rows on both sides of the driveway. Black sedans, European sports cars, armored SUVs, and many more. The gathering alone reflected the influence her father had built throughout his lifetime.

"We're here," Enzo said softly. He parked the car before quickly getting out to open her door.

As Adriana stepped outside, several armed men in black suits immediately stood at attention. They saluted her in perfect unison. Beyond the security perimeter, dozens of reporters waited behind barricades, desperately trying to capture a glimpse of Don Alejandro Ferrer's only daughter.

"So many people..."

She barely whispered the words, but still, Enzo heard her.

"Your father was a powerful man." His eyes swept across the crowd. "He built relationships everywhere. It was only natural that so many people would come to pay their respects. And besides, he was a good man. A good father, and you know that. He supported every decision you made even when you refused to help the company during its hardest years."

Adriana lowered her eyes.

“We both know he stopped needing me the moment you came into his life." Her voice was almost emotionless. "You filled the role I should've had. That's why he treated you more like his own child than me."

Enzo immediately shook his head. "Maybe he saw me as a son. But how could I ever compare to you?" He looked straight into her eyes. "You are his flesh and blood while I'm just an orphan he chose to raise. But none of that matters today.”

Enzo glanced toward the chapel entrance.

"We've already attracted enough attention. The press is having a field day watching us."

Before Adriana could react, Enzo gently took her hand. Her eyes widened. "What are you doing?"

He simply continued walking.

She stared down at their joined hands before looking at him again. "Is holding hands required before entering a memorial chapel?"

Enzo couldn't help laughing. "Aren't you overthinking things?"

She clicked her tongue. "I was just asking."

As they approached the entrance, Enzo suddenly noticed Adriana clutching her chest.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

Adriana forced out a shaky breath.

"It still doesn't feel real." She stared at the chapel doors. "My mind keeps telling me this is all some horrible nightmare. A stupid prank. I keep imagining dad sitting up from inside that coffin, smiling at me and apologizing for making me believe he died just so I'd finally come home."

Enzo felt something tighten inside his chest. He slowly wetted his lips before speaking. "Come on, let's see him."

Adriana nodded. Step by step, she walked toward the front of the memorial chapel. The closer she came to the coffin, the heavier her body became. Every step demanded more strength than the last. Until she could no longer move. Enzo gently supported her by the arm. Without saying a word, he guided her the rest of the way.

When they finally reached the coffin, Enzo stood beside it and lowered his head respectfully.

"Good afternoon, Don Alejandro." His voice was calm.

"I kept my promise. I brought Adriana home. Your daughter is here."

He rested one hand on the polished wooden coffin before looking at Adriana.

"Do you believe me now? That he's really gone?"

Adriana stared through the glass. The man lying peacefully inside was truly her father. The same father who had spent years trying to convince her to come home. The same father she had stubbornly ignored. Her knees weakened.

"My chest..." She pressed a trembling hand against it. "I-I can't breathe.” She looked at Enzo. "Lorenzo, please I need to sit down. I can't stand it anymore."

Without hesitation, Enzo wrapped an arm around her shoulders and carefully guided her toward the nearest chair. But before they could even sit, a cold, unfamiliar voice interrupted them.

"And who might she be, Enzo?"

Both of them stopped. A young man walked toward them with an arrogant smile. He looked at Adriana before raising an eyebrow.

"Your girlfriend?" He chuckled mockingly. "This is a memorial chapel, not a dating spot. If you want to flirt, do it somewhere else. Show some respect." He glanced toward the coffin. "This is my father's funeral. Show some respect."

Adriana froze. Her brows knitted together. "My father?" She slowly turned toward Enzo. Confusion filled her eyes. "Why did he just call my dad... his father? Who is he? Is he... my father's son?"

A terrible thought crossed her mind.

"Is he my brother?"