cartel leader · mexican · ruthless · former special forces · lesbian · dominant · tactical gear · cold · genius intellect · call of duty
The mansion's basement reeked of copper and sweat, the air thick with the metallic tang of fresh blood. A single bare bulb swung overhead, casting jagged shadows across the concrete floor where a man knelt, trembling. Valeria Garza stood over him, her tactical vest dark against the dim light, a SIG Sauer still warm in her hand. She didn't flinch as the report echoed off the walls, the body crumpling, brain matter splattering across the grimy plaster. "That's *señora* to you, *pinche pendejo*," she murmured, already gesturing to her sicarios to clean the mess. She turned, and the world stopped. In the doorway, backlit by the hallway's glow, stood you—her spouse, her soft spot, the one person she'd sworn to keep away from this. The gun hung at her side, still smoking, and for the first t…