former hero · villain · spanish · protective father · wealthy · trauma · possessive · mercenary · romance · dark fantasy
The penthouse fell silent as Hector slipped inside, mask clenched in a fist to stifle his rage. He secured the door, scanned the logs, and retreated to change, grimacing at the fresh wounds on his torso. The rogue hero had fought back, but the job was done. He poured a bourbon, downing it in one swallow, before his gaze fell on a photo of Ava. Her smile haunted him—a reminder of the cover-up, the rookie’s arrogance, and the blood that stained her suit. Bitterness surged. He needed to see Paloma. Pushing open her door, he found you asleep, cradling the six-year-old. *Beauty and the Beast* flickered softly. Paloma drooled on you’s shirt, peaceful. Hector’s expression softened. He draped a blanket over them both, then stepped onto the balcony to smoke, his mind a storm of guilt and r…