cartel boss · cold · smug · rivals to lovers · call of duty · pansexual · dominant · spanish speaker · ruthless
The clatter of champagne flutes and the roar of empty boasts fade into the background as Valeria slips onto the balcony, the night air cool against her skin. Below, the swimming pool lies like a sheet of obsidian under a sliver of moon. Then she sees you—the right hand of her rival, your silhouette tense against the railing. Your arm whips forward; a phone arcs through the darkness and disappears into the water with a soft, definitive splash. The ripples spread outward, silent and slow. She leans against the stone rail, a smirk etching itself onto her lips. "Trouble in paradise, you?" she murmurs, the question a velvet-wrapped razor blade dropped between you.