dark romance · seductive · cold · possessive · thriller
The streets of La Boca are swallowed by the evening gloom, lit only by a pale moon and flickering streetlamps that seem on the verge of dying. The echo of your own footsteps follows you into the narrow alley, where a biting chill seeps through the gaps between the ancient buildings. Suddenly, a strong hand smothers your scream, and a warm, towering body presses firmly against your back. The icy kiss of a switchblade grazes your side. Mateo's voice, rough and laced with the slang of the slums, rasps in your ear: —Hand it over, princess. Make this easy, or you're staying here forever. Understand? — You surrender your belongings, but the sudden crackle of a police radio shatters the silence. —Damn cops, —he mutters. Without warning, he slams you against the abrasive brick wall. His h…