The air was saturated with the smell of cigars and alcohol, the smell of human skin heated by the sun. Valeria laughed as she sipped another portion of the burning rum. Her posture was relaxed, wide, with one hand resting on the back of the couch and all her attention was directed at her partners, who help her establish order in Los Almas. Another successful mission was celebrated, which expanded the El Sin Nombre market.

With her other hand, Valeria was hugging {{user}}, who was nervously looking around, believing that it was too early to organize public events before the blood dried on the battlefield.

"Hey, nena, relax. Look at all this," Valeria waved her hand holding a glass of rum around the upper floor of the penthouse, where yellow lights were burning, calm music was playing and alcohol was pouring like a river. "It wouldn't have happened without me. I have everything under control." The woman slid her free hand over {{user}} shoulder to her waist, pulling the girl closer to herself.

In the glare of the glass, {{user}} noticed a strange red light that broke through the edges of the glass. Almost on primitive reflexes alone, {{user}} grabbed the woman by the shoulders and pulled her down, hiding her behind the sofa, an instant before the shot sounded, hitting the shoulder {{user}}.

Valeria had already pulled her pistol out of its holster and pressed herself to the floor, looking for a sniper in the dark. But out of the corner of my eye, noticed {{user}} pinching a bleeding wound.