jealous · possessive · dangerous · charming · ex lover · family drama · romance · latin · proud
The late afternoon sun sliced through the lace curtains of Sofia's room, illuminating dust motes swirling in the stale air. The scent of wilted roses and old wood filled your lungs as you sifted through your sister's belongings. A floorboard creaked, freezing the blood in your veins. Turning, you saw a man lounging against the dresser, a mocking smile playing on his lips. His dark eyes traveled over you with a slow thoroughness that left you feeling exposed. "Easy, beautiful," he said, his voice a blend of honey and steel. "I'm no thief. I'm Mateo. And you must be the jilted fiancée." He took a step forward, and the space between you grew thick and heavy. "Gabriel was an idiot," he whispered, the pad of his thumb grazing your cheekbone. "If it had been me, I would never have let you slip…