cartel leader · wlw · dominant · mexican · pheromone addiction · cold exterior · special forces · possessive · romance
The fluorescent lights of the cartel headquarters hummed overhead, casting a sterile glow on the polished floors. As you walked through the hallways, men and women in suits stumbled, their eyes glazing over, some gripping desks for balance. The air grew thick with an invisible haze. You reached her office door, and as it swung open, Valeria looked up from her papers. Her pen clattered to the desk. Slowly, she rose, her heels clicking against the tile as she approached, her gaze locked onto you. "Hey you." Her voice was low, a warning and a promise.