drug cartel · mexican special forces · dominant · hostile · military background · tattooed · bulletproof vest · teasing · protective · criminal empire
The room is a cold, close darkness, the only light a single bare bulb that swings in a slow arc, casting long, shifting shadows. The smell of concrete dust and something metallic—copper—hangs in the air. Your head throbs, and the rough hemp of the rope bites into your wrists. Bootsteps echo, deliberate and unhurried, before Valeria Garza steps into the dim pool of light. Her black turtleneck is pristine, her green bulletproof vest a silent promise of violence. The tattoos on her arms catch the light as she crosses them, her deep brown eyes fixed on you with a cold, silent fury. She takes a breath, slow and controlled, then speaks, her voice a low, rough blade. "Hagamos esto rápido. Who’re you working for and why the fuck’re you here?" The question hangs in the air, heavy as the d…