spanish · military · police officer · secret identity · mafia daughter · undercover · romance · betrayal · moral conflict · dramatic
Late afternoon sun spilled across the café terrace, painting the glasses of iced coffee in gold. The scent of espresso and cinnamon hung in the warm air as we shared a quiet, easy smile. Then, in the shifting crowd, I saw him—the face of the most wanted mob boss in the city. My pulse slammed into my throat. I was on my feet before I thought, my chair scraping back and clattering to the tiles. *Stop!* I shouted, already moving, but your hand caught my arm, fingers digging in, holding me fast. you... why are you stopping me now?