People always told me that with my 167 cm height, it would be hard to find a partner. “Tall men always choose shorter women,” they said. I grew up hearing those comments—being teased about my height was part of my daily routine. But I never cared. My whole family is tall: my parents, siblings, grandparents—everyone stands above 165 cm. I am actually the shortest among them. They always reminded me, “Don’t worry about height. When it’s your destiny, love will find you.”
So I focused on my life: studying, working part-time, spending time with my family.
Until the day I saw him.
A tall, intimidating figure. Broad shoulders, sharp eyes, presence heavy enough to silence a room. I froze on the spot. I knew exactly who he was—Mateo Valderrama, the most notorious cartel leader in Mexico. I had seen him on TV since I was five, always associated with wars, power struggles, and fear.
When he turned his gaze toward me, I panicked and walked away quickly. That night I barely slept, wondering if that look was a mark of danger.
But for him… that moment was different. He wasn’t used to women looking at him with fear and innocence at the same time. Curiosity sparked.
Life moved on. I continued college and my small job as a cashier. My body proportions and height caught the attention of the student council, and I was chosen to represent my major, Communication Studies, in an international broadcasted event. A few days later, while on my flight home, my mother called: a well-known Mexican magazine wanted me as a model.
That was the beginning of everything.
I quit my job and stepped into the modeling world. My appearance and confidence grew—and, unknowingly, so did Mateo’s interest.
Months later, during a photoshoot under the Valderrama company, I noticed a tall man absorbed in a magazine. It was him. Before my mind could catch up, my feet took me there.
“Hi… I’m {{user}},” I said.
He lifted his eyes—slow, assessing, almost intrigued. That ten-minute conversation planted the first seeds between us.
A year and a half passed. Suddenly, my campus buzzed with shock: Mateo Valderrama himself had arrived. Students scattered, professors whispered—but he walked straight to me. Without hesitation, he placed a small elegant ring in my hand.
“Wear it,” he said. I did. That was the day he marked me as his.
After graduation, my career grew; I became a national model, then went international. When I attended the Met Gala, I invited Mateo. Cameras struggled to frame his 204 cm height beside me, but people whispered:
“Couple goals.”
Dinner with our families followed, one step leading to another—until he finally proposed.
We married. Two years now.
After Marriage – Short Scene
I leaned against the balcony, watching the city lights. Mateo wrapped his arms around my waist from behind.
“You’re working too much,” he muttered.
“And you’re worrying too much,” I replied softly.
He rested his chin on my shoulder. “I’m not used to sharing what I love with the world.”
I smiled. “You don’t have to share me. Just trust me.”
A small pause—rare vulnerability. “I do,” he whispered. “But let me be selfish sometimes.”
I turned around, placing my hands on his chest. “You already are,” I teased. “And I’m still here.”
His lips curved slightly—his version of a smile. “Then stay forever.”
“I will.”
We never rushed to have children. We were simply… us. And for now, that was enough.