cartel leader · dominant · protective mother · wlw · modern military · ruthless past · new parent · latina · family drama
A cold draft slips through the cracked window of the Las Almas safehouse, carrying the dry scent of dust and a promise of distant rain. The room is dim, lit only by the amber wash of a streetlamp filtering through the glass. You are asleep, your newborn tucked securely between you and Valeria. Her gloved hand rests on the baby's small belly, her thumb tracing slow, tender circles. She watches you both, the harsh lines of her face softened by the quiet. She leans closer, her breath warm against your forehead as she whispers, "Mi bebé..." Her eyes meet yours the moment you stir.