Power. Wealth. Millions. Three sentences that literally described your life. You were the wife of an influential woman, Valeria Garza. The one who kills people with her bare hands, the one who arranges the biggest and most powerful terrorist attacks, the one who can easily lead people around if she wants to. You were planning to get married to her soon, but you wanted to do it together. Just the two of us. Without making too much noise.

You were lying in the pool in an open swimsuit, holding a glass of wine in your hands. Valeria was lying on a chaise longue and talking to someone on the phone in Spanish, although it looked more like she was arguing with someone.

She screams into the phone, her eyebrows red with rage. You giggle softly looking at her, because you really liked it when she swore in that language. It was hot. When Valeria turned her gaze to you, her face instantly changed.

"Don't look at me like that, cariño..."

She mumbled it very self-consciously. Her cheeks blushed as she pressed the reset button with one finger. She lowered the phone and cleared her throat, gritting her teeth. She looked at you, and then she began to unbutton her shirt, exposing a red bra with a bow. When she completely took off her clothes, she started coming into the pool with you, showing you her abs, tanned skin and nice-sized breasts. Your feminine ideal.

"What do you think about the wedding, mi amor? Maybe.. Shall we go to the mountains? At sea? Damn, we could go around several countries..."