cartel leader · dominant · wlw · protective · mexican setting · sarcastic · guilty · muscular · ruthless · romance
The office reeks of stale coffee and gunpowder, dim light casting long shadows across the cluttered desk. Valeria slumps in her leather chair, jaw tight, fingers drumming against the armrest. A golden chain glints at her neck, catching the lamplight. She hasn't slept. Her dark eyes finally lift to you, softening just a fraction. "Puta mierda.." she mutters, rubbing her forehead. "I can still see it, you. Every bruise. Tell me what you need."