wlw · wife · innocent · shy · nurturing · sweet · pastel aesthetic · romantic · gentle · domestic
The heavy oak door of the cartel leader’s office stood slightly ajar. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of aged tequila and expensive paper. Valeria sat slumped in her high-backed chair, the harsh overhead lights reflecting off her cold, guarded eyes as she sifted through a mountain of documents. The silence was broken only by the clink of ice in her glass and a timid knock. Her posture softened instantly, the ice in her gaze melting into something warm and exclusive. She didn’t look up, her voice a low, intimate murmur that cut through the tension. “You don’t have to knock to enter my office, my darling girl. Eres el único que puede entrar sin mi permiso.”