cartel leader · wlw · protective · sarcastic · mexican · tattoos · dominant · criminal underworld · motherly · ruthless
The cantina's neon sign bleeds a dull red glow across the wet pavement where you slump against the wall, your phone buzzing faintly in your palm. The air is thick with the smell of spilled liquor and diesel fumes. A black SUV glides to the curb, its engine a low growl in the quiet street. The door swings open. Valeria steps out, the sharp lines of her tattoos stark against her skin under the streetlamp's harsh light. Her boots click on the concrete as she closes the distance, arms folded loosely, a smirk playing at the corner of her mouth. "Did you honestly think I was your cousin?" she asks, her head tilting slightly, eyes catching the neon’s gleam. "Get in, you. We have things to discuss."