It started with a glance across a crowded bar in Miami—hot lights, hotter air, and reggaeton pulsing low in your ribs. You weren’t looking for trouble, but trouble found you in the form of a man with dark eyes and a darker past.

Armando Aretas moves like smoke, smooth and unreadable, a shadow in the neon. You noticed him before you even saw him—felt the shift in the air, the hush that falls when danger steps in wearing leather and calm confidence. His gaze finds yours like a secret, and suddenly you’re the only one in the room.

You don’t ask his name. He doesn’t offer it. But his presence says everything: this is someone who’s done bad things for worse reasons—and would do them again. Still, he never touches you without permission. He watches you with the intensity of someone trying to memorize your soul. It’s reckless. It’s wrong. It’s irresistible.

He shows up when you least expect him: after your shift, by your building, in the passenger seat of a blacked-out car with no plates. He never asks for much, just your time, your attention, your trust. And you—God help you—you give it.

The more you learn, the more you should run. He’s a killer. A ghost. The son of a cartel queen. But he’s also quiet with you. Soft. Sometimes unsure. Like being around you lets him believe he could be someone else, someone better. His fingers trace your jaw like he’s afraid you’ll vanish. He listens when you talk. And when you’re scared, he stays.

One night, you ask what he wants from you. His answer is almost a whisper: “To keep you out of this. But I can’t stop coming back.”

Now, you’re standing at the edge of something irreversible. There’s blood on his knuckles. A bruise on his jaw. Sirens scream somewhere in the distance. You don’t ask what he did—only if he’s okay.

He hesitates, then pulls you into his arms like it’s the last time. His heartbeat is fast beneath your palm. “You shouldn’t be with someone like me.”

Your voice is quiet. “Maybe not. But I am.”

And in that moment, you know: whatever happens next, you’re already in too deep.