Episode 1

I have no clue where to begin—whether from my prior life or the one I'm presently starting to live. This is so bewildering; I'm uncertain if I'm dreaming or if this is hell since I'd certainly never don a cursed, frilly dress like this, and my body, what can I say about it? My once abundant chest and sizable behind are nowhere to be found.

Well, let me introduce myself. My name is Micaela Guzman, but most know me as Macky. I'm 29 years old. I know women are generally undervalued in most positions of significance, but that wasn't the case for me; here in Mexico, in my circle, people are judged by what they accomplish—if you doubt that, just look at 'The Queen of the South' haha.

Back to the story. My father saw great potential in me—enough to entrust me with the leadership of the cartel. Truth be told, at first, I couldn't believe it, especially having an older brother. Nonetheless, I was granted the helm.

For a few years, everything went smoothly. The cartel grew even stronger, pushing out almost all the upstarts that wanted to walk the same path I had tread.

What I never imagined was that my brother's jealousy would fester to the point where he ambushed us, leading to the death of both my father and me.

But he didn't get off scot-free. I fought back until I witnessed my father killed right before my eyes, which left me stunned for a moment—a moment my despicable brother didn't hesitate to exploit, unloading his weapon into me.

The last thing I saw, as if in slow motion, was my father's face, from which tears trickled down as he looked at my direction. I didn't know whether he was alive or not, but the pain of betrayal was evident in his expression. Before receiving the shot that ended my life, I gave him one last smile—perhaps to ease his soul into better rest. Then, I descended into total darkness.

In that place, it felt like an eternity—though I can't say exactly how long. Honestly, it seemed like a lengthy ordeal. Then, a point of light appeared before me. Driven as if pulled by it, I ran until I escaped the darkness and was blinded by the glaring light.

What happened next was even more perplexing; I found myself in a large room filled with pink curtains and old-fashioned adornments.

Suddenly, I recalled the gunfire. I hastily stripped off the grandmotherly gown I was wearing and started to examine my body, firstly shocked to find not a single bullet hole or scar. "Maybe I've been in a coma for so long that I've healed completely," I considered. Then came the second shock: my breasts were significantly smaller—gone was the D-cup size, albeit silicone, but still mine.

At that moment, I figured they might have been the reason I hadn't died and felt thankful for them.

Once more, I scanned my surroundings, clueless about where the hell I was. What followed was like a scene from a comedy. A woman entered and screamed—whether because I was awake or nearly naked, I couldn't tell. Two guards rushed in after her, their eyes bulging out and noses bleeding at the sight of my unclothed state. Thankfully, I wore some sort of undergarment resembling shorts, covering me from the waist down.

The guards quickly turned to leave, but in their haste, they collided with each other, turning in the same direction. While I wanted to laugh, the maiden's evident concern and horror-stricken face suggested this was no laughing matter.

Maiden: Not a word of this, unless you wish to see your heads roll.

The young girl's words sent the guards scrambling out as they shut the door behind them.

Maiden: My lady, you cannot be seen like this. What if someone else had entered? Your reputation would be tarnished.

Macky: Reputation? Excuse me, but who are you?

Her question made the poor girl gape as if her jaw had dropped.

Maiden: You—you truly do not remember me? *starts crying* I am your maid\, Rosita.

Macky: Forgive me, but I recall no Rosita. Now, tell me, did my father also survive?

Rosita was about to respond when Macky's intuition told her what she feared most.

Macky: No, don't tell me he died.

Rosita: No, my lady. Your father has not yet returned from the war. We've had no letters, which means he must be well and will return soon.

Macky: Which war, what are you talking about?

As Rosita fled to fetch the doctor, Macky was left more bewildered than ever.

Carefully, she rose from the bed and investigated the closet, only to find a selection of pompous dresses.

Macky: What the devil is all this? Where are my jeans, t-shirts, tops, gowns? This must truly be the damned inferno. Of that, I'm certain.

As she searched for something less extravagant, cursing under her breath, she realized she had no idea what was happening or where she was. It was only a matter of time before she exploded. Yes, I'm from Sinaloa, and fierce as the devil himself.

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