Valeria's POV

The hum of activity filled the studio—cameras clicking, people shouting, and somewhere in the distance, someone was having a meltdown about lighting. I wasn't supposed to be here, but Emilia had sweet-talked me into helping out for the day. Simple enough, right? Move some equipment, fetch some coffee—easy.

That was until Claire decided I was her new source of entertainment.

"You know," Claire's voice piped up behind me as I struggled to adjust a massive light stand, "for someone who used to be a badass gang enforcer, you sure look like you're losing a fight to a tripod."

I grunted, giving her a side-eye. "I swear if you don't stop—"

She cut me off with a mock gasp, placing a hand dramatically on her chest. "Oh no, is the infamous Alacrán being defeated by... technology?" She sniffed the air. "I smell weakness."

I groaned, tightening a bolt aggressively. "Don't you have something better to do?"

"Nope," she chirped, hopping onto a nearby stool and crossing her legs. "But if you want, I can help you."

I paused, leveling her with a glare. "You? Help?"

Claire smirked. "I'm a woman of many talents. I can lift heavy objects—like morale."

I rubbed my temples, patience thinning. "I'll do anything if it means you'll get off my back."

Her grin stretched wider—never a good sign. "Perfect! Then do me one tiny favor."

I already regretted this. "What?"

"Take me to your sister."

I froze mid-adjustment, my hand tightening around the stand. My head whipped toward her so fast I nearly gave myself whiplash. "Excuse me?"

Claire's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Vera. You know... tall, dark, and homicidal?"

I stared at her, deadpan. "What, planning your funeral?"

Claire's grin didn't budge. "Nah. More like planning my future. Gotta secure my Castillo edition before someone else does." She waggled her eyebrows.

I pinched the bridge of my nose, barely containing a groan. "You've got issues."

She gasped dramatically. "How dare you. I am a hopeless romantic!"

"You're a hopeless something," I muttered.

She hopped off the stool, hands on her hips, smirking. "So? You gonna introduce us or what?"

I turned back to the light stand, my voice dry. "I'd rather get shot. Again."

Claire chuckled, stepping beside me with a sly grin. "Awww, you're protective. That's sweet."

I pointed a wrench at her, eyes narrowed. "More like I don't want her to catch whatever you have."

Claire shrugged, clearly unbothered. "Too late. She already caught my eye."

I groaned so loudly that a passing crew member gave me a concerned look.

"You're insufferable," I muttered.

"And you're stuck with me," she shot back, her grin victorious. "Soooo... when's the family dinner?"

"Never," I snapped, turning back to my task.

Claire, of course, wasn't done. "Fine, but when we get married, you're giving the toast."

I sighed deeply, already regretting every life choice that brought me here.

This was my life now.

And God help me, I wasn't sure if I'd survive Claire.

I turned to Claire, my eyes narrowing into a warning glare. "Stay away from Vera."

Claire's playful smirk didn't waver. "Aww, come on—"

"No," I cut her off firmly, my voice cold and certain. "She made it clear. She chose her path. And trust me, it's not a path you want to be part of."

Claire crossed her arms, tilting her head with that infuriatingly amused expression. "But you changed—for Emilia."

I stiffened at that, my jaw clenching slightly. "It's different."

"Is it?" Claire challenged, stepping closer, her eyes searching mine. "Maybe Vera's just waiting for a chance too. Why are you condemning her before she even gets one?"

I folded my arms tightly over my chest. "And what chance would that be?"

Claire's grin stretched wider, eyes sparkling with that dangerous, reckless optimism she always carried. "Love," she said simply, with a cheeky wink.

I scoffed, a dry, humorless chuckle escaping me. "You've been watching too many soap operas."

Claire shrugged dramatically. "Or maybe I just know a good plotline when I see one."

Rolling my eyes, I turned back to the equipment, tightening a stubborn bolt with more force than necessary. "You're delusional."

Claire, naturally, was undeterred. "Hey, I'm just saying. You found your soft spot, Alacrán. Maybe Vera's got one too."

I shot her a sidelong glance. "Yeah, and it's probably a trigger."

Claire laughed, clearly enjoying herself as she grabbed a nearby cable and started helping me untangle it—surprisingly useful for once. "You're such a killjoy."

"And you're a walking headache," I replied dryly, though a small, unwilling smirk tugged at the corner of my lips.

Claire grinned wider, clearly catching it. "See? You're warming up to me."

I shook my head, muttering, "God forbid."

We worked together in a rare moment of peace, the banter still buzzing in the air between us. But even as I tried to shake off the conversation, her words lingered—

Maybe Vera's just waiting for a chance.

I pushed the thought aside, forcing my focus back on the task at hand.

But deep down, something told me—

This wouldn't be the last time we had this conversation.

Claire's POV

I found Emilia in her favorite spot—the corner of the studio, coffee in hand, flipping through some of her latest shots. She looked up the second I walked in, her eyes already glinting with curiosity.

"Well?" she asked, raising a brow, clearly waiting for an update. "Any luck?"

I sighed dramatically, dropping into the chair across from her and slumping back. "Nope. Your lovely fiancée has her guard up tighter than a bank vault." I rubbed my temple in mock distress. "She's really committed to the whole 'stay away from my sister' thing. It's kind of impressive, honestly. Annoying, but impressive."

Emilia chuckled, hiding her grin behind her coffee cup. "Told you she wouldn't crack."

"She's impossible," I grumbled. "I've tried jokes, charm, borderline harassment. Nothing."

Emilia's eyes twinkled with amusement. "Valeria's been through hell and back. She's protective for a reason."

I groaned, flopping dramatically forward onto the table. "Ughhh. I know. But, like... can't she just introduce me? I'll handle the rest!"

Emilia smirked, setting her cup down with a soft clink. "You're relentless."

I lifted my head, grinning cheekily. "I am charmingly persistent."

She laughed softly, the warmth in it making me feel like we were already family. "You really think Vera's worth all this trouble?"

I paused, my grin softening into something more thoughtful. "Yeah," I admitted, surprising even myself with the sincerity in my voice. "I don't know her. But something tells me... she's worth knowing."

Emilia leaned forward slightly, resting her elbows on her knees. "Well, if anyone could get through that Castillo armor, it's you."

I flashed her a crooked smile. "Damn right."

A beat of silence passed between us, easy and comfortable.

Then, on a whim, the idea just... popped into my head.

"You know what?" I said, straightening up suddenly.

Emilia tilted her head. "Uh-oh. Should I be worried?"

I grinned. "Nope. Inspired."

Emilia gave me a skeptical look. "That sounds worse."

I smirked wider. "I think... I'll write her a letter."

Emilia blinked, clearly not expecting that. "A letter?"

"Yeah." I nodded, already liking the sound of it. "I'll put it all out there. What I think. What I want to say to her."

I paused, my voice softening with something unfamiliar. "I mean... she doesn't know me. But maybe... she should."

Emilia's expression warmed with something close to approval. "And what are you going to call this masterpiece of yours?"

I felt the words before I said them. And when I did, they settled in my chest—heavy and hopeful.

A small, almost self-deprecating smile tugged at my lips as I looked at Emilia and said,

"To My Beloved Stranger."

The End

Till Claire and Vera meet again