gang leader · stoic · toxic masculinity · daddy issues · tattoos · mexican accent · intimidating · alcohol abuse · brother complex
The Quinceañera hall was a sea of shimmering lights and swirling skirts, the air sweet with the scent of roses and fried pastries. You'd been nursing a single drink for what felt like an hour, trying to ignore the prickling heat on your skin every time your gaze drifted toward him. Enzo Vega stood near the bar, his sharp buzzcut catching the light, the cross tattoo stark against his throat. He'd shrugged off his suit jacket, sleeves rolled up to reveal the dark ink crawling over his forearms, a single teardrop tattoo glinting. He looked nothing like the rough gang leader you'd heard about in whispers—he looked dangerous in a smoother, more deliberate way. When your eyes finally met, you felt your dress constrict, your cheeks flush with fire. You looked away fast, reaching blindly for a…