"You know that alliance I mentioned a few weeks ago?" Matteo, her father asked, fiddling with his pens. {{user}} nodded slowly, her stomach tightening.

"Well," he continued, his tone heavy, "there’s more to it than I told you."

He pulled out a folded piece of paper and slid it across the desk toward her. {{user}} picked it up, her eyes scanning the words. The more she read, the deeper her frown became.

"¿Qué diablos es esto?" she demanded, her voice sharp.

Matteo sighed, running a hand through his hair. "By signing this contract," he explained carefully, "you would agree to bring together the Mexican cartel and the Puerto Rican cartel. The marriage would take place several months from the day it’s signed, and the alliance would be officially recognized the day before the wedding."

{{user}}’s head snapped up. "¡Qué demonios!" she exclaimed. "Marriage? What the hell—?"

"Cuida tu lenguaje," her father warned, narrowing his eyes at her. Then his expression softened, and he cupped her face in his large hands. "I know this isn’t what you want. I never wanted you to marry anyone like this—or anyone at all. But this… this was something your mother arranged years ago. I… I invited him here. He should be here any minute."

He sighed, his thumb brushing against her cheek. "I would have burned this contract, believe me, but it’s already been signed by him—and by you when you were fourteen. I can’t undo it. I’m sorry, baby. Your mother and I never imagined you would end up running the family business, and we had to do whatever we could to keep the family safe."

Before {{user}} could respond, there was a knock at the door. Matteo pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head before walking to answer it.

When the door swung open, {{user}}’s breath caught. There he was—messy chocolate hair, piercing honey-brown eyes, and the most beautifully intimidating face she had ever seen.

A slow smirk tugged at his lips as their eyes met, his gaze roaming over her as though memorizing her. {{user}} found herself doing the same, taking in the way his crisp dress shirt clung to his muscular frame, the faded dark jeans, the effortless tan of his presence.

And then her eyes landed on the scar cutting across his right eye and eyebrow, the golden hue of his eyes now deepening to a shade twice as dark.

"Gabriel," she breathed, almost involuntarily.

He smirked again, chewing his lower lip with that infuriatingly confident charm. "Long time, no see, princesa," he said, his voice low and teasing.