Emilia's POV

The studio had finally quieted down, leaving just me, Claire, and the faint hum of equipment cooling after a long day. I stood by the large display screen, flipping through the shots from the morning-trying to focus, trying to be professional-but my mind was still tangled with Valeria.

Claire leaned in beside me, pointing at one of the images, her voice light and casual. "This one's strong. The lighting hits perfectly-"

And then it happened. Arms wrapped around me from behind. I froze.

Valeria's arms. Her warmth pressed against me, her chin resting on the top of my head like it belonged there.

No warning. No hesitation. Just... her.

I stiffened instinctively, my heart racing-not because I didn't want it, but because I wanted it too much.

Claire's eyes flicked from me to Valeria, her eyebrows arching slowly. "Okay... what's happening here?"

I cleared my throat, trying to ignore the heat rushing to my face.

"Valeria?" I asked softly, craning my neck slightly to glance up at her. "You okay?"

She didn't answer.

She just stayed there, her arms snug around me like they were stitched to my skin, her face buried slightly into my hair.

Claire gave me a look-part confusion, part amusement, part 'what the hell is going on?'

I didn't know what to say. But then again, I'd told Valeria she could do whatever she wanted.

So... I let her.

I leaned back into her, feeling the slow rise and fall of her chest against my back, pretending I could still focus on the photos in front of me while my heart threatened to leap out of my chest.

Claire's voice cut through the tension. "What is this?" she blurted, waving her hand between us. "Are you guys together or something?"

Valeria's body tensed against mine, the shift so slight most people wouldn't notice.

But I did. Because it was her. And suddenly, I was the one who couldn't breathe.

What was I supposed to say?

Yes? No? Maybe?

But none of those felt right.

Because if I said yes, it'd feel like I was boxing Valeria into something she wasn't ready for. If I said no, it'd feel like I was denying everything we'd been through-everything I felt. And maybe? Maybe felt too fragile. Too incomplete.

So instead, I smiled softly, my heart racing as I turned my head slightly, just enough to catch Valeria's shadowed gaze from the corner of my eye.

"I'm waiting for Valeria to ask." I giggled.

The words slipped out like they'd been sitting there all along, waiting for the right moment to surface.

Valeria didn't move at first.

Just silence-heavy, charged, almost suffocating. Then, slowly, she pulled her face from my hair, her arms loosening slightly but still wrapped around me. I felt her breath against my neck before I heard her voice.

Low. Rough. Unsteady in a way that made my heart ache.

"Ask you what?"

My chest tightened.

I turned in her arms, facing her now, my hands sliding up to rest lightly on her shoulders.

Her eyes were darker than usual, shadowed with something vulnerable-something I'd rarely seen from her.

"Nothing," I whispered, my fingers brushing along her jaw. "Just stay."

For a beat, I thought she'd pull away. But she didn't.

Instead, she leaned in, pressing her forehead to mine, her hands gripping my waist like she was afraid I'd slip away.

I smiled softly, my thumb tracing over her cheekbone.

Claire cleared her throat dramatically in the background.

"Okay, well, I'll just-yeah, I'll be anywhere but here."

I laughed, the tension breaking just enough for me to lean up and press a soft kiss to Valeria's cheek.

The studio had faded into the background-just faint echoes of Claire's footsteps retreating, the low hum of machines cooling down, and Valeria's arms still wrapped tightly around me.

Her breath was warm against my neck, her grip hesitant now, like she wasn't sure if she should let go or hold on tighter.

I turned in her arms, facing her, my hands sliding up to rest lightly on her shoulders.

Her eyes were dark, shadowed with something fragile, something unguarded.

"Was that too much?" she whispered, her voice rough, like the words hurt on the way out.

I felt my heart twist-because she meant it. She wasn't just talking about asking me to be hers. She was talking about all of it. The closeness. The feelings. The terrifying possibility of wanting something she couldn't control.

I lifted my hand, fingers brushing gently along her jaw, grounding us both.

"No, you can do whatever you want." I whispered softly, my thumb grazing her cheek. "You don't have to know now, Or ask me now."

Her jaw tensed slightly under my touch, like she was waiting for the part where I'd pull away, give her an easy out. But I didn't. I leaned in, close enough to feel her breath hitch between us.

"Take your time," I murmured, my voice quieter now, meant only for her. "Make sure this is what you want."

I felt her hands twitch against my waist, her eyes flickering with something fierce and vulnerable all at once.

I swallowed the knot in my throat and added, "But just so you know... I'm here."

I let the words sit between us, heavy and soft, like they needed space to breathe.

Valeria didn't say anything. She didn't have to.

Her grip tightened around me, pulling me just a little closer-not because she was afraid I'd leave, but because maybe, just maybe, she didn't want me to.

And that was enough. For now.



Valeria's POV

Emilia's words were still echoing in my chest.

"I'm here."

I didn't know how to respond, so I didn't. I just held her tighter, like that could somehow make up for everything I'd never said.

And then-

The door creaked open. Lucia stood there, her eyes flicking between us.

Me, still holding Emilia. Emilia, not pulling away.

For a second, none of us moved. Then her face softened, her arms dropping to her sides as she blinked like she wasn't sure if she was really seeing me.

"Valeria?" she whispered, her voice shaky, filled with something I didn't expect-relief. I stepped back from Emilia slightly, feeling exposed under her gaze.

"Yeah," I muttered, shoving my hands into my pockets like that would make me feel less vulnerable.

Lucia didn't hesitate. She crossed the room in quick strides, pulling me into a hug so tight I forgot how to breathe. Her arms wrapped around me with that familiar warmth I hadn't realized I missed until now.

"You're back," she murmured against my shoulder, her voice thick with emotion. "I was so worried."

I didn't know what to do with that. So I stood there, stiff at first, until Emilia's soft gaze caught mine over Lucia's shoulder, grounding me.

Slowly, I let my arms wrap around Lucia-awkward and unsure-but real.

When she finally pulled back, her hands cupped my face briefly, like she needed to make sure I was really standing there.

"You scared me, idiota," she muttered, trying to sound annoyed, but her eyes were too glassy to sell it.

I gave a small, crooked smile, the closest thing to an apology I could manage. Lucia's gaze shifted to Emilia, then back to me, her expression softening even more.

"I'm making tamales," she announced, like it was some grand declaration.

I blinked, caught off guard. "What?"

Lucia was already halfway to the kitchen, waving her hand dismissively. "Tamales. Your favorite. You look like you haven't had a proper meal in weeks." Before I could respond, Emilia's face lit up beside me.

"Wait-you're making tamales?" Her eyes sparkled with excitement, and she turned to me with a grin that nearly knocked the breath out of my chest. "The ones Valeria made me try when I wasn't eating?"

Lucia glanced back, her smirk full of pride. "The very same."

Emilia's hand found mine without hesitation, her fingers slipping between mine like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And I didn't pull away. Couldn't.

Because for the first time in what felt like forever, I realized-I didn't want to.

Lucia disappeared into the kitchen, humming softly, the familiar scent of masa and spices already drifting into the room.

Emilia squeezed my hand gently, her smile lingering as she looked up at me.

And standing there, with her hand in mine and the promise of tamales filling the space between us, I felt something I hadn't let myself feel in a long time.

Like maybe this wasn't just a place I ended up. Maybe it was something closer to home.

Emilia's POV

Lucia's warmth lingered even after she disappeared into the kitchen, leaving me standing with Valeria's hand still wrapped in mine. I didn't want to let go.

But reality had a way of sneaking back in.

Lucia peeked back into the room, wiping her hands on a kitchen towel, her expression shifting slightly.

"Emilia," she said softly, glancing at Valeria, then back at me. "Your father wants to see you in the study."

Valeria's hand tensed slightly in mine, but I gave it a reassuring squeeze before pulling away, my heart already tightening with the weight of what I knew was coming.

---

The study door creaked as I pushed it open. My father stood near the large window, his back to me, staring out like the city held answers he couldn't find.

"You wanted to see me?" I asked, keeping my voice steady.

He turned slowly, his face carved with the lines of stress he never used to show.

"Emilia," he started, gesturing for me to sit, but I didn't. I stayed standing, arms crossed, waiting.

"I wanted to talk to you about Valeria."

Of course.

I didn't say anything, just arched a brow, waiting for him to continue.

"I appreciate everything she's done. Truly. But... it's getting too dangerous." His voice was low, careful. "I'm worried."

I laughed-a short, bitter sound.

"You're worried?" I stepped closer, my heart pounding. "Valeria has been saving me from the mess you created. She risked everything-again and again. She avenged Julia."

His face tightened at the mention of Julia, but I didn't stop.

"I love you, Dad. But whatever mess you're in-you need to fix it. The only reason I can even look at you right now is because this mess gave me Valeria."

Silence settled between us, thick and heavy.

He sighed, rubbing his temples. "I was thinking of sending you abroad. For your safety."

The words hit me like a slap.

"No."

His eyes snapped to mine. "Emilia-"

"No." My voice was firm, unshaken. "There's no way I'm leaving Valeria behind."

His face softened, a rare vulnerability slipping through. "I'm worried about you."

I didn't respond.

Because I knew if I did, the words would be too sharp, too final.

After a moment, he sighed, defeated, reaching into his desk drawer. He slid a folded piece of paper across the polished surface.

"What's this?" I asked, picking it up.

"It's where I moved César and Lucas."

My heart skipped.

Without another word, I left the study, the address burning in my hand.

Valeria's POV

I was leaning against the kitchen counter, pretending to be interested in the cup of coffee cooling in my hands, but my mind was a storm. Emilia's absence always did that-left too much space for thoughts I didn't want.

When the door opened, I didn't look up at first. But I felt her before I saw her-the shift in the air, the quiet pull she had on me without even trying.

Her steps were quick, her face flushed with something more than just the chill from outside. She walked straight to me, no hesitation, no guarded distance.

"Lucas called Lucia a week ago," she blurted, her voice low but tight with something I couldn't place-worry? Guilt? Both?

My grip tightened around the cup. "What?"

She nodded, exhaling like the words had been sitting heavy on her chest. "Before our fight. He told her things... things I should've told you sooner."

I set the cup down, my jaw tightening. "Like what?"

Her eyes flickered, searching mine for something-understanding, maybe. Forgiveness.

"The neighborhood's getting dangerous," she said quietly. "Dominic's men are everywhere. They've been questioning people, making examples of anyone they think might've been involved in Carlos's death or helped me escape."

The words hit harder than I expected.

I felt it-a cold, sharp knot twisting in my chest.

Dominic's men weren't just dangerous. They were brutal. Ruthless. The kind of people who didn't ask questions twice.

I clenched my fists, the skin over my knuckles stretching white. "Why didn't you tell me?" Her face softened, but there was a stubbornness behind her eyes.

"Because I handled it," she said, stepping closer, her hand reaching out, fingers brushing over mine. "I didn't want you running into danger. I needed you safe."

Safe. The word felt foreign coming from her lips, like the roles had shifted when I wasn't looking.

"You don't get to decide that," I whispered, my voice low and rough. "I should've known." She didn't pull back. Instead, she stepped closer until there was barely any space between us.

"You were already dealing with enough. I thought-" She stopped, her breath shaky. "I thought I could protect you for once."

I swallowed hard, the tension in my chest unraveling into something else-something I didn't have a name for.

"Thank you," I whispered, the words foreign but real.

She smiled, small and soft. "That doesn't come close to saving my life. Or avenging Julia."

"Julia won't be fully avenged," I said quietly, my fingers curling around hers, "and we won't be safe until we find a way out of this mess."

She nodded, her grip tightening like an unspoken promise. And then she pressed her lips to the palm of my hand.

The words between us were fading, dissolving under the weight of something heavier-something I couldn't name but felt burning beneath my skin.

I didn't think. I just moved.

My hand found her waist, fingers curling around the delicate curve like it belonged there. In one effortless sweep, I lifted her off the ground and set her on the counter.

Her breath hitched, her eyes widening as her cheeks flushed a deep pink.

She blinked, clearly flustered. "Okay, what was that?" she managed, her voice breathless, like she was trying to keep her balance even though I hadn't let her fall.

I didn't answer. I didn't need to.

I stepped in, closing the space between us, my hands sliding to the back of her thighs. My fingers curled around the soft skin just above her knees, and with one quick pull, I dragged her forward, her body flush against mine as I stepped between her legs.

Her breath stuttered, and she let out a breathy sound as her fingers gripped the edge of the counter like it was the only thing anchoring her.

"You've been bold lately," she whispered, her voice shaky, laced with something between surprise and anticipation.

I leaned in, my lips hovering just above hers, close enough to feel her breath, to taste the tension simmering between us.

"Ever since I tasted you this morning," I murmured, my voice low, raw with honesty, "my body's been going crazy."

She didn't speak. She couldn't. Her lips parted slightly, her eyes darkening with something I'd only seen flashes of before-want.

I pulled her even closer, my body pressed between her thighs, my heartbeat loud in my ears.

"Show me how to do it right," I whispered, the words more of a confession than a request.