Valeria's POV

My breath caught in my throat.

Not from fear. Not from the chaos surrounding me.

But from her.

She stood there, cool and collected, a smirk on her lips like she wasn't standing in the middle of a bloodbath. Her dark eyes locked onto mine, and even through the haze of gunfire, smoke, and the overwhelming stench of blood, I knew.

She wasn't just some stranger.

She was familiar.

Too familiar.

And then she spoke.

"Hey, sis."

The words nearly knocked the air out of my lungs.

What the hell—

A bullet whizzed past my ear, snapping me out of my daze. I ducked on instinct, rolling behind an overturned chair, gun raised, forcing myself to focus.

There was no time for questions.

Not now.

I fired, taking out two more of Ignacio's men before glancing back at her.

Whoever she was—she wasn't here for me.

As the gunfire continued to tear through the room, I realized she wasn't fighting Ignacio's men.

She was taking down Dominic's.

My stomach twisted.

I watched her move. She was quick, efficient, lethal. She knew what she was doing—this wasn't her first fight.

Ignacio's men weren't targeting her. They were working with her.

Who the hell was she?

I was about to move toward her, about to demand some kind of answer, but then—

A flash of movement to my right.

I turned just in time to see three of Dominic's men rushing him toward the exit.

Bullets rained down around them, some barely missing, others grazing their arms and legs. One of his men took a hit to the shoulder but kept moving, dragging Dominic forward.

I clenched my jaw, watching them disappear through the chaos.

Damn it.

This was my one chance—my one real shot at getting rid of Dominic without taking the fall for it.

And he was walking away.

I cursed under my breath, gripping my gun tighter.

No choice now.

Plan B.

I turned, forcing myself to ignore the burning questions about the woman who looked like me. Right now, survival was more important than answers.

Gunfire still rattled through the air, the sound deafening as I pushed my way through the fight.

A bullet grazed my arm—sharp, fast pain—but not deep enough to stop me. I barely spared it a glance.

I kept moving.

I made my way to the escape route Claudia and Salvador had prepared for me, weaving through the estate's side halls, sticking to the shadows.

The back exit was unguarded. Exactly as planned.

I sprinted outside, my breath heavy, my muscles burning. The cold night air hit me like a slap, but I didn't stop.

Then I saw it.

The car.

Salvador was already in the driver's seat, waiting, his eyes scanning for me.

The second I was close enough, I jumped in, slamming the door shut.

"Drive," I ordered.

Without a word, Salvador hit the gas.

And just like that—we were gone.

The air in the car was thick, heavy. None of us spoke for the first few minutes. My mind was still reeling from everything that had just happened—Ignacio's murder, the chaos, the woman who called me sis. But I couldn't focus on any of that now.

Not yet.

"You're bleeding," Claudia said, her voice tense as she glanced at my arm.

I barely looked down. The fabric of my shirt was torn, blood seeping through the thin material, but it wasn't deep.

"It's nothing," I muttered. "Just a graze."

Claudia didn't seem convinced, but she didn't push it. Instead, she exchanged a quick glance with Salvador.

"What happened?" she asked.

I exhaled, staring ahead. "Dominic killed Ignacio."

A heavy silence settled over us.

"And Dominic?" Salvador finally asked.

"He escaped," I said flatly.

No one spoke.

Outside, the glow of flashing blue and red lights reflected against the windows as police cars sped past us, heading in the direction of Ignacio's estate.

"So now the police arrive," I scoffed, shaking my head.

Salvador let out a low breath. "Ignacio was a politician. They can't cover this up. No matter how much influence Dominic has, he won't be able to make this disappear. He's going down."

I turned to him, narrowing my eyes. "What do you mean?"

Salvador shifted slightly, keeping his gaze on the road. "Maybe Dominic escaped tonight. But someone has to take the fall for Ignacio's murder. And it sure as hell won't be Ignacio's men."

Claudia frowned. "You think it'll be Dominic?"

Salvador nodded. "They need a name. A scapegoat. And who better than the man who walked into Ignacio's house, pulled the trigger, and left a trail of bodies behind?"

I clenched my jaw. "Even if he's in jail, he'll still be dangerous."

"But he'll be out of your way. Out of Emilia's way." Salvador said.

I exhaled through my nose, my fingers tapping against my knee. "Let's just hope you're right and the police take him down for this."

Salvador smirked. "I'll make sure they do."

I turned to him sharply. "How? He can just let one of his men take the fall."

"Not if the right people know the truth," Salvador said. His voice was steady, calculated. "I'll leak the information to the media. If the news gets out that Dominic was the one behind Ignacio's murder, the police won't have a choice but to take him down."

I studied him for a moment, weighing his words.

Leaking it to the media meant no more backdoor deals, no more favors to make things disappear. It would be public. Messy.

And most importantly—unstoppable.

I gave a slow nod. "Do it."

Salvador didn't hesitate. He simply pulled out his phone and started typing.

We sat in silence after that.

The only sound filling the car was the distant wail of police sirens, getting further and further away.

We pulled up to Claudia's hideout, a rundown safe house tucked in the shadows of the city. It wasn't much, but it was safe—for now.

The second we stepped inside, Salvador grabbed the remote, switching on the TV.

And there it was.

Dominic's face plastered across every news channel.

The headline was bold, loud, and damning.

"BREAKING NEWS: UNDERWORLD KINGPIN DOMINIC RAMOS WANTED FOR THE MURDER OF POLITICIAN IGNACIO CORTÁZAR."

The footage cut to Ignacio's estate, now swarming with police. Officers moved in and out of the mansion, the flashing lights from their cars illuminating the night.

I sat down, watching in silent disbelief.

It was actually happening.

It was almost over.

Claudia exhaled, rubbing her temples. "Holy shit. They actually pinned it on him."

Salvador smirked, arms crossed. "Told you. He was never walking away from this clean."

I stared at the screen, watching Dominic's mugshot appear beside Ignacio's photo. A before and after.

The kingpin before the fall.

I let out a slow breath. This was it.

Then—

My phone buzzed.

I pulled it out, my stomach tightening when I saw the name on the screen.

Emilia.

I answered immediately.

"Valeria—" her voice was frantic, uneven, on the verge of breaking.

"Princess," I exhaled, already moving toward the door. "I'm okay."

"Where are you? I saw the news—are you hurt? Did anything happen?!"

I ran a hand through my hair, trying to steady my voice. "I'm fine. It's over, Emilia. It's done."

"Then why aren't you here?!" she snapped, her voice thick with emotion.

My chest ached at the sound of her crying.

"Because I just got out of a war zone," I muttered, forcing a small chuckle, trying to calm her. "I didn't want to bring trouble to your door."

"I don't care," she cried. "I don't care, Valeria. Just—just come home."

I sighed, pressing the phone tighter against my ear.

She wasn't asking.

She needed me.

"I'm on my way," I whispered.

A quiet sob left her lips, like she was finally letting go of all the fear she had been holding in.

"Just—hurry," she whispered.

I tightened my grip on the phone. "I promise."

I ended the call, slipping my gun back into my holster before turning to Claudia and Salvador.

"I need to go."

Claudia raised an eyebrow. "And what? Leave all of this behind?"

I didn't hesitate. "Yes."

She scoffed, shaking her head. "You're hopeless."

Salvador smirked but didn't argue.

"Stay safe, Alacrán," he said instead.

I gave them a final nod before stepping out into the night.

Because there was only one place I wanted to be.

And she was waiting for me.

---

I expected Emilia to be at the door.

She always was—waiting, anxious, ready to throw herself into my arms the second I walked through.

But tonight, the house was silent.

Too silent.

A feeling coiled in my gut, sharp and instinctual. I reached for my gun, moving carefully, my steps silent as I slipped inside.

The air felt off..

I moved down the hall, my breath controlled, my grip tightening around my weapon. The silence wasn't just eerie—it was wrong.

Then I heard it.

A voice—low, furious.

"I said, where is she?"

The sound came from the studio. My pulse spiked, and I moved faster, rounding the corner with my gun raised—

And then I saw her.

The woman from earlier.

Her hand was wrapped around Claire's neck, her other hand holding a gun that kept flicking between Claire and Emilia.

My blood went cold.

"I assume you're looking for me," I said, stepping fully into the room, my gun steady, aimed directly at her.

The woman's head snapped toward me, her grip on Claire loosening slightly. Emilia and Claire both turned at the same time, their expressions shifting from terror to sheer confusion.

The woman tilted her head, her eyes scanning me up and down.

"Alacrán," she said, almost like she was testing the name on her tongue.

"Put it down," she ordered.

"Not before you do first," I shot back.

We stood there, staring each other down. Neither of us moved.

Emilia and Claire were trapped between us, eyes darting between two eerily similar faces.

Because that's what she was—similar.

Not identical. But close enough. The same sharp angles, the same dark eyes, the same weight behind them. Like we came from the same place, the same blood, the same violence.

Then—the woman smirked.

"You going to shoot your own sister, Alacrán?"

My stomach dropped.

From behind her, Emilia sucked in a sharp breath. "Sister?"

I didn't blink. Didn't let my arm waver.

"I don't have a sister," I said flatly.

The woman chuckled, shaking her head like she had expected that answer.

"God made two of this hot species?" Claire muttered under her breath, whistling low.

The woman released her grip on Claire, her confusion evident.

We were face to face now.

Not identical. But close enough to unsettle me.

"Who the hell are you?" I asked, my voice cold, unreadable.

The woman lifted her chin slightly, her gun still pointed at me.

"I told you," she said. "I'm your sister. Vera."

I didn't flinch. Didn't breathe.

"I have no sister."

Vera scoffed. "I thought that too, until last year—when our dear old father finally decided to tell me about you."

Silence stretched between us, thick and stifling.

"You know how hard I've been looking for you?" Vera's voice turned sharp, her grip on the gun tightening. "And when I finally find you, you're not the legend I heard about. Not the ruthless warrior they whispered about in the dark."

She let out a bitter laugh, filled with something almost resentful.

"No," she spat. "Turns out my sister isn't some unstoppable force."

I held my ground, my grip tightening around the gun. She was pushing. Testing me.

And I refused to break.

Vera took a step forward, slow, measured. "I spent years hearing stories about you, Alacrán," she sneered. "The ruthless fighter. The ghost in the dark. The one who never ran from a fight."

Her gaze flickered toward Emilia again, eyes narrowing. "And yet, here you are—throwing it all away for her."

I didn't react, didn't let her see how deep her words were digging into my skin.

Claire, who had managed to put some distance between herself and Vera, cleared her throat.

"So... just to clarify," she said, rubbing at her neck where Vera had grabbed her. "This is your actual sister? Blood-related? Not some dramatic long-lost twin soap opera thing?"

Vera barely spared her a glance. "We share a father," she said bitterly. "The one who sold her to Carlos, moved away, and had another daughter three years later."

A strange silence settled over the room.

I hadn't expected that.

"You're lying," I said, voice low.

Vera's jaw clenched. "Why would I?" she shot back. "I didn't even know you existed until last year—when our dear old father finally decided to tell me that Alacrán was actually my sister."

Silence stretched between us, thick and stifling.

"You know how hard I've been looking for you?" Vera's voice turned sharp, her grip on the gun tightening. "And when I finally find you, you're not the legend I heard about. Not the ruthless warrior they whispered about in the dark."

She let out a bitter laugh, filled with something almost resentful.

"No," she spat. "Turns out my sister isn't some unstoppable force."

Her lip curled.

"She's just a coward who betrayed her crew for what?"

Her eyes flickered toward Emilia, dark with disgust.

"A girl?"

Emilia tensed beside me, her fingers curling into fists, but I lifted a hand slightly, keeping her back.

I exhaled slowly, keeping my breathing steady. Not giving her the reaction she wanted.

"You don't know anything about me," I said, my voice low, even.

"Don't I?" Vera scoffed, tilting her head. "Dominic trusted you. And you sold him out. You betrayed your crew, your people—for what? For her?" She flicked her gaze toward Emilia. "For love?"

I let the word settle between us.

Heavy. Weighted.

Vera watched me carefully, waiting, almost daring me to deny it.

I didn't.

Her jaw clenched. "Then maybe I really did come looking for a ghost."

Her grip on the gun wavered just slightly.

And that was all I needed.

I lunged.

Before she could react, I knocked her gun aside and slammed her into the wall. She fought back, twisting, trying to regain control, but I was faster—pinning her wrist, forcing her to drop the gun.

It clattered to the floor.

"Enough," I snarled, my forearm pressing against her throat.

Vera's eyes met mine, blazing with rage. But beneath it, something else.

Recognition.

Like she had expected me to win. Like she had wanted me to prove her wrong.

I loosened my hold, just slightly.

"You want to kill me?" I asked, voice low. "Then do it."

Her breath was ragged, her pulse hammering against my arm.

And then, just as quickly as she had arrived, she went still.

She didn't fight back. Didn't resist.

Her hands dropped to her sides.

And then she whispered, so quietly I almost missed it—

"I came looking for a sister." Her voice cracked, just barely. "But she doesn't exist anymore."

I felt my stomach tighten.

Vera shoved me back and took a step away.

Emilia, who had been holding her breath the entire time, finally moved toward me, reaching out as if to pull me back.

But Vera was already heading for the door.

She paused just before stepping outside, not turning around.

"You chose your side," she muttered. "I won't make the mistake of looking for you again."

Then she was gone.

Silence hung in the air, heavy and suffocating, as the door slammed shut behind Vera.

I kept my eyes on it for a second longer, my muscles still tense, my fingers twitching with the lingering adrenaline.

Then—

"I think I'm in love," Claire muttered.

I turned my head just in time to see her grinning like an idiot, rubbing her neck where Vera had held her moments ago.

Emilia, however, wasn't amused. She was already moving toward me, her eyes scanning my body frantically, hands reaching for my arm.

"Are you hurt?" she asked, her voice rushed, panicked. "Valeria, are you okay?"

I exhaled, my body finally relaxing under her touch. "I'm fine, princess. Just a graze."

She barely looked convinced, her hands roaming my arms, my chest, searching for any other injuries.

I smirked, letting her fuss over me.

When she was finally satisfied that I wasn't bleeding out, she wrapped her arms around me, holding me tight.

I let out a slow breath, my arms coming up around her, grounding myself in the warmth of her body.

She buried her face into my shoulder. "Is it over?" she murmured against my skin.

I didn't know how to answer that.

Before I could respond, Claire patted me on the back.

"Wow. What a night. So, uh..." She rocked back on her heels. "Your sister—she single?"

Emilia pulled back just enough to glare at Claire, swatting at her arm.

Claire laughed, unbothered. "What? I'm just saying. Can you blame me?"

Emilia ignored her, turning back to me, her expression softening.

"How do you feel about all of this?" she asked. "About the fact that you have a sister?"

I stiffened slightly at the word.

I shook my head, my jaw tightening. "I don't have a sister," I muttered. "I was raised alone. Just because we share a father doesn't mean I feel anything for her."

Claire hummed, watching me closely. "That's funny," she said.

I arched a brow. "What's funny?"

Claire crossed her arms. "That woman works for Ignacio. She knows you betrayed Dominic. She knows you set Ignacio up. And you let her walk out of here without putting a bullet in her head."

I didn't say anything.

Because Claire wasn't wrong.

Emilia hesitated beside me. "Do you think she'll be trouble?"

I still didn't respond.

Because the truth was—I didn't know.

Claire grinned, nudging Emilia. "I'd love to tame her."

Emilia rolled her eyes before playfully slapping Claire's arm. "Claire!"

"What?" Claire laughed, throwing up her hands. "I'm calling dibs on the second hottie. You already have your hottie."

Emilia groaned, shaking her head, but I saw the way the tension in her shoulders eased.

I let out a slow breath, finally pulling Emilia back into me. My mind wasn't in the room anymore—not entirely.

"She saved me."

Emilia shifted against me. "What?"

I swallowed, my voice coming out distant, almost absentminded. "Earlier... one of Ignacio's men had a gun to my head. She shot him before he could pull the trigger."

I felt Emilia's grip on me tighten.

Claire let out a dreamy sigh. "Ahhh, my hero."

I shot her a glare, but she just grinned.

Emilia, however, wasn't amused. Her tone sharpened. "What's your point?"

I exhaled, rubbing a hand over my face. "She knew who I was. She knew where to find you. She knows a lot about me. She knew I betrayed Dominic, but she still saved me."

I met Emilia's gaze, my mind racing. "Why did she come here if she already knew all that?"

Claire leaned against the table, arms crossed. "I don't think she'll betray you."

I frowned. "And you're so sure because...?"

Claire shrugged. "She said she came looking for a sister. No matter how different you are from what she imagined, you're still the sister she was trying to find."

Emilia studied me carefully. "Do you think you'll see her again?"

I hesitated.

Then, with a sigh, I shook my head. "If she's still walking in Ignacio's footsteps, then I hope our paths don't cross."

I met Emilia's gaze, my voice steady.

"Because I'm done walking that road."

Claire moved to my side, patting my shoulder with a grin. "Welcome home, Val."

I shot her a glare. "Don't call me Val. We are not friends."

"Oh, we are best friends," she declared confidently. "Actually, I just upgraded you to family."

I raised an eyebrow. "Family?"

Claire grinned wider. "Yes. You're my sister-in-law. Twice."

Emilia and I exchanged a confused look.

Claire beamed, holding up a finger. "First, because I am marrying your sister. FOR SURE."

I blinked. "You—what?"

She held up a second finger. "And secondly, because you are marrying mine."

I felt the air knocked from my lungs.

Marriage?

Beside me, Emilia groaned, clearly just as mortified as I was.

"Claire," she hissed, covering her face with her hands.

I just stared at Claire, speechless.

Claire, completely unfazed, winked. "It's fate, Val. You better get used to me."

Emilia's POV

It had been a couple of days since that night—since Ignacio, since the chaos, since everything.

The world outside kept moving, but I still felt like I was catching my breath.

I made my way to our bedroom after a long day on set, rolling my shoulders as exhaustion settled deep into my bones. The moment I stepped inside, a warmth spread through me.

Valeria was there.

Cozy on our bed, like she had never left, flipping through channels with a half-amused, half-bored expression on her face.

Like this was her home. Like she belonged here.

And she did.

I climbed onto the bed, nestling into her side. Valeria welcomed me into her arms without hesitation, holding me close, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead.

On the TV, news of Dominic's arrest flashed across the screen.

I exhaled, snuggling deeper into Valeria's warmth. "So, it's really over?"

Valeria hummed, her fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns along my arm. "Looks like it."

I frowned, feeling the tension in her body. "Then what's wrong?"

"It's nothing," she murmured.

She was lying.

I lifted my head slightly, looking up at her. "Val? Don't hide from me."

She sighed, running a hand through her hair. "It's just..." She hesitated, choosing her words. "They didn't arrest his entire crew. Leo is still out there somewhere. And a lot of the people who knew me—who knew what I did—are still walking free. And then there's this Vera thing..."

I reached up, cupping her face, forcing her to look at me.

"Baby," I said softly. "I know you're worried. You've lived your entire life on edge. But Leo was Dominic's man. Without Dominic, he'll probably join another crew. He has no reason to look for you. For all he knows, you never even survived the fight. No one has a reason to come looking for you."

Valeria's fingers curled around mine, her grip tight, but she didn't say anything right away.

"I hope you're right," she finally said.

I smiled, brushing my lips against hers in a slow, reassuring kiss. "Val, I know it's going to take time. You've lived your whole life running away. But now that this is over, you'll get used to it."

She exhaled, her lips curling into a small smile. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," I whispered before she kissed me again—slow and deep, and I melted into her.

Then, I pulled back slightly, a chuckle escaping me.

"You know something funny, though?" I said, grinning against her lips.

"What?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Claire is really hung up on your sister," I smirked. "I thought she was just joking, but no—she's seriously got a huge crush on her."

Valeria groaned. "What is it with you two falling for criminals?"

I laughed, moving closer, my lips brushing against her ear.

"What can I say?" I purred. "Castillo genes are just perfection."

She let out a mock groan before I kissed her again, this time easing her onto her back, losing myself in her warmth.

Valeria was finally mine.

And I could get used to this life.

Valeria's POV

The night air was cool against my skin as I stood in the abandoned lot, waiting. It was the kind of place where unfinished business got settled. No cameras. No witnesses. Just shadows stretching across cracked pavement and the occasional flicker of a streetlamp in the distance.

I heard the low rumble of a motorcycle before I saw her.

Vera.

She pulled up, cutting the engine and swinging her leg off the bike in one smooth motion. Even in the dim light, I could see the tension in her shoulders, the war waging behind her dark eyes.

"You came," she said, voice laced with something unreadable.

"You asked me to."

She let out a dry chuckle. "So you still take orders. Good to know."

I exhaled, already exhausted by this conversation before it even started. "Why am I here, Vera?"

Her jaw clenched. "I want to know why you walked away. Why you left all of it behind like it never meant anything."

I met her gaze evenly. "Because it didn't."

Her expression darkened. "Bullshit. You were one of the best. A legend. You could have had anything—power, loyalty, fear. But you chose to throw it away for..." she scoffed, gesturing vaguely, "for love?"

I took a slow step forward. "That life only leads to two places: prison or a grave."

"And what if I don't care?" she shot back. "What if I'd rather be feared than forgotten?"

"Then you'll end up just like them," I said, voice steady. "Like Carlos. Like Ignacio. Like Dominic. Dead or rotting behind bars. How many more people do you need to lose before you realize it's not worth it?"

Vera flinched. Just barely. But I saw it.

She inhaled sharply, fists clenching at her sides. "Maybe I don't want to be better. Maybe I want to be worse."

I studied her carefully, seeing the reflection of who I used to be—the sharp edges, the hunger for something more, the belief that power was the only way to survive.

"You want to know who your sister is?" I said quietly. "She's someone who wants you to be better than me."

For the first time, Vera hesitated. A crack in the armor.

She shook her head, laughing bitterly. "You chose your path, Valeria. Now let me figure out mine."

She climbed onto her bike, revving the engine.

"Vera—"

"You can have your happy ending, I am not going to tell anyone about what you did. Goodbye, Alacrán."

And just like that, she was gone.

4 months later

Emilia's POV

The cabin stood quietly against the backdrop of the trees, the late afternoon sun casting a warm, golden hue over the clearing. My heart pounded—not with fear, but with anticipation.

I had known he was alive. I had known it for a long time.

But seeing him? That was something entirely different.

The door creaked open.

And there he was.

Silas Hayes. My father.

Alive. Breathing. Real.

The sight of him knocked the breath from my lungs.

His hair was grayer than I remembered, his face a little more lined. But his eyes—those familiar, steady eyes—still carried the weight of every sacrifice he had made. And when he smiled at me, everything hit me at once.

I didn't wait.

My feet moved on instinct, and the next thing I knew, I was in his arms.

Strong. Warm. Home.

He held me tightly, his hand cradling the back of my head like he used to when I was a little girl. His voice was rough with emotion. "Hey, baby girl."

I squeezed him harder, my voice muffled against his chest. "You're really here."

He pulled back slightly, his hands still on my shoulders, eyes searching my face. "I always was. Just... from a distance."

A tremor of laughter escaped me—half joy, half relief. "You and your dramatic exits. Do you know how hard it was pretending to grieve you? You owe me for that performance alone."

He chuckled, and the sound was so familiar it made my chest ache. "Oscar-worthy, I heard."

I smirked, wiping a stray tear. "You're lucky Valeria came up with that insane plan. Or I would've killed you myself for disappearing like that."

His expression softened, a flicker of gratitude passing through his eyes. "She's... remarkable," he said. "She saved both of us."

I nodded. "She did. But don't let her hear you say that. Her ego's big enough already."

He smiled, but it faded into something more serious. "And you, Emilia. You kept it together. You played your part perfectly."

I stepped back, crossing my arms. "Yeah, well... I'd rather not have to fake losing you again, if it's all the same to you."

His gaze dropped for a second, his voice quieter. "I hated doing that to you. Watching from the shadows... It was the hardest thing I've ever done."

I felt the weight of his words settle deep in my chest. "I know," I said softly. "But you stayed alive. And you trusted me to finish this."

His eyes, so full of pride, met mine. "And you did."

A beat of silence passed between us. Then, his lips quirked into a familiar grin. "So... you and Valeria, huh?"

I felt the heat creep up my neck. "Yeah. Me and Valeria."

His grin widened. "Good. I like her. Scary as hell, but... good."

I laughed, shaking my head. "You and me both."

His eyes softened. "She loves you. I can see it."

I smiled, my heart warm and steady. "I know."

He exhaled, a long, slow breath, like he was finally letting go of something heavy. "So, what now?"

I studied him, my voice gentle. "You tell me."

He hesitated, then his gaze turned almost mischievous. "You know... I've been thinking. I kinda like being dead. No meetings. No enemies. Just... peace."

I blinked, then burst out laughing. "Seriously? You're retiring? Just like that?"

He shrugged with an easy smirk. "What can I say? I think I've earned it."

I shook my head, my laughter softening into something tender. "You have."

His voice lowered, his hand brushing my cheek. "And so have you."

I felt my throat tighten, but this time, the tears weren't from sadness. "You're really staying gone, aren't you?"

"For now," he said, his voice warm. "I want you to live, Emilia. Without shadows. Without threats. Just... live."

I smiled through the sting in my eyes. "You better send postcards, old man."

He chuckled. "Deal."

We stood there, letting the moment breathe. Two survivors. Two warriors. But most of all—father and daughter.

No longer hiding.

No longer running.

Just... together.

And this time, I knew.

No matter where he went—

He would always be with me.

Valeria's POV

Dominic was gone. Ignacio was dead. And for the first time in my life, I was free.

But even with that freedom, some things still felt strange—like getting used to peace.

I sat with Emilia on the couch, my arm wrapped lazily around her as we watched the soft glow of the evening sky outside. It felt... normal. Too normal.

She sighed against my shoulder, her fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on my arm.

"How's César?" she asked softly.

I smiled at the mention of his name. "Still getting used to school. But... he's happy."

She pulled back slightly to look at me. "And living with Claudia? Do you think he'll be okay there?"

I nodded. "Claudia lives alone now. She's out of the game, working a safe, honest job with Salvador. César keeps her company. And they'll find comfort in each other."

Emilia hummed, a small, content smile on her lips. "I like that."

She leaned in closer, pressing her face against my arm.

For a while, we sat in comfortable silence, her warmth sinking into me, grounding me.

And then...

I tilted my head down, pressing a kiss to her temple.

She smiled. "What was that for?"

I shrugged, brushing my lips lower, kissing along her jaw, then her neck.

Her breath hitched.

I smirked. "Do I need a reason?"

She turned to face me fully, her hands sliding up my chest. "Not really," she murmured.

I kissed her.

Slow, deliberate, savoring the way her lips molded perfectly against mine.

She sighed into my mouth, her fingers tightening around the back of my neck, pulling me closer.

I deepened the kiss, my hands sliding to her waist, then lower, gripping her thighs as I lifted her effortlessly onto my lap.

She gasped, but her arms wrapped around my shoulders instinctively, pressing herself against me.

"Val..." she whispered, her voice a mix of amusement and something breathless.

I smirked against her lips. "I like when you say my name like that."

She laughed, shaking her head. "You're impossible."

"Maybe," I murmured, my forehead pressing against hers. "But you love me anyway."

She exhaled, brushing her lips against mine. "Yeah, I really do."

I reached into my pocket, my fingers brushing against the small velvet box.

My heart pounded, but my decision was already made.

I pulled back slightly, meeting her gaze—deep, steady, sure.

"Marry me," I whispered.

Her breath caught.

I pulled out the ring, holding it between us, watching her expression shift from shock to realization to something indescribable.

"You..." she blinked, her voice unsteady. "You want to marry me?"

I smirked, brushing my thumb against her cheek. "No, I just carry around rings for fun."

She let out a breathy, disbelieving laugh, but there were tears in her eyes.

I softened. "Emilia... I never thought I'd have this. A life. A future. But with you, I do."

Her hands trembled as she covered her mouth, her entire body shaking.

I held my breath.

Then she nodded. "Yes."

A choked laugh left my lips. "Yeah?"

She launched herself at me, crashing her lips against mine, kissing me so hard I almost lost my balance.

I grinned into the kiss, wrapping my arms around her, holding her as tightly as I could.

"Yes," she whispered against my lips again. "A thousand times, yes."

And just like that, everything felt right.

For the first time, I wasn't running.

For the first time, I wasn't just surviving.

For the first time, I was home.

Emilia's POV

The evening breeze was cool as Claire and I sat on the balcony, glasses of wine in hand, the city stretching endlessly below us.

Valeria was inside, talking to Lucia and Adrian, laughing about something, looking more at ease than I'd ever seen her.

Claire, however, was uncharacteristically quiet.

I nudged her. "Alright, out with it. What's on your mind?"

She exhaled, swirling the wine in her glass. "You know I joke a lot, right? But... something about Vera stirred something in me. Something I can't shake."

I raised an eyebrow, following her gaze. "Yeah... I know what you mean." I glanced back at Valeria, who was lost in conversation with Lucia. "She has that same fire Valeria used to have."

Claire smirked. "Softened? Tell her that and see if you live."

We both chuckled, but I could see the lingering thoughts in Claire's expression.

"Do you think I'll see her again?" she asked.

I took a slow sip of wine, setting my glass down. "Who knows? Maybe you'll have your own story to tell next."

Claire leaned back, grinning slightly. "I hope I do."

She let the thought linger for a moment before nudging me. "So, what's next for you and Alacrán?"

I turned my head toward Valeria just as she glanced over at me, her lips curling into a smirk.

I smiled back. "No more Alacrán, just Castillo, and soon, Hayes... I hope our next chapter is nothing but happiness."

As the evening went on, Valeria stepped outside, catching my gaze with a soft smirk.

I played with the ring that fit perfectly on my finger, I realized—

Maybe, just maybe, we were finally free.

***