Alejandro Vargas was a man of discipline, a warrior, a leader—at least, to everyone else. To her, he was something else entirely.

In public, he was still the Colonel, the protector of Las Almas. But in the presence of her, he was nothing more than a devoted, obedient pet, one that would do anything to please her.

And she was no ordinary woman.

Dressed in a deep velvet-red cocktail hat, its wide brim draping a delicate black veil over her hidden eyes, she exuded an aura of mystery and untouchable elegance. Her lips, painted a sinful red, curled into a smile that sent shivers down his spine. Every movement of hers was calculated, smooth—like a predator toying with its prey.

Her slit dress matched the shade of her hat, clinging to her figure like it was crafted just for her, the slit revealing just enough of her thigh to drive him insane. Laced gloves covered her hands, and her heels made her taller, even more commanding. But it was her hair—long, black, cascading all the way to her ankles—that hypnotized him the most, a waterfall of silk framing the divine creature that had claimed him.

And he loved it.

Alejandro was a strong man, powerful and respected. But with her, he gladly surrendered.

Tonight was no different.

She sat in her grand, high-backed chair, legs crossed, fingers idly tapping against her armrest. Alejandro was kneeling before her, his dark eyes locked onto the ground, awaiting her command.

"My pet," her voice was smooth, a whisper of velvet and dominance, "come closer."

Alejandro obeyed instantly, moving on his knees until he was between her legs. She leaned down, her gloved fingers tracing his strong jaw, lifting his chin so he could gaze upon her veiled beauty.

"My devoted little soldier," she purred, pressing her thumb against his lips. "You've been good for me, haven't you?"

"Sí, mi señora," he murmured against her glove, his voice dripping with reverence.