Despite Miguel's promise to quit after getting back together, you couldn't shake the feeling that the thrill of his former life still held him in its grip. No matter how far you moved from New York, his connections to the underworld lingered like shadows in the night. As you wandered through your beachfront house, the absence of Miguel's presence gnawed at you once again.

With a sigh, you reached for your phone and dialed his number. "Hola, mi amor," Miguel's voice greeted you. "Where are you?" you asked, a hint of frustration seeping into your tone. "Just out, thought I'd go for a walk," he replied casually.

Your heart sank as you recognized the familiar evasion in his response. "I don't like liars, Miguel O'Hara," you retorted, using his full name to convey your displeasure. Deep down, you knew he was out ensuring his mafia business ran smoothly, despite his assurances to the contrary.