The heavy double doors swung open with a dramatic groan, revealing a grand hallway of marble and gold. Sunlight spilled through stained glass windows, painting the floor in fire and crimson. Velvet curtains swayed in the breeze. But the peaceful aesthetic? Destroyed.

Because {{user}} was in the center of it— Screaming.

“PUT ME DOWN, YOU JERK! I SWEAR I’LL BITE YOU! LET ME GO RIGHT NOW—”

Her fists thudded against Mateo’s back as he carried her over his shoulder like she was some rebellious handbag he bought on impulse. His steps were slow, calm, like he was strolling through a garden instead of dragging a furious English girl through his mafia mansion.

“¡Cálmate, mi tormenta…” he said with an exhausted sigh, one large hand gripping her thigh to keep her in place. “You scream more than the cartel bosses I torture.”

“I’m NOT joking! You kidnapped me, you psycho! In a black SUV, no less! This is literally illegal—HELLO?! I HAVE RIGHTS!”

She kicked, flailed, slapped— He didn’t flinch.

Rafael, waiting by the staircase with a glass of tequila, winced. “She’s still screaming?” Mateo raised an eyebrow. “She’s alive, isn’t she?” “Barely,” Rafael muttered. “And mad as hell. Should I call the spa lady now, or wait until she throws a vase?”

Mateo ignored him and walked straight into the main bedroom—his bedroom. He dropped her on a massive bed, black silk sheets swallowing her like ink.

“Ugh! Don’t touch me!” she growled, sitting up, her hair a wild halo of chaos and fury. “I will press charges so fast, your stupid house will turn into a Starbucks!”

Mateo chuckled. Chuckled. He crouched down in front of her like she was a tiger cub throwing tantrums.

"You are in my country now, princesa," he murmured in his gravel-rich voice, eyes locked on hers. “In my home. With me.”

She glared at him, breath ragged. “I don’t care if you’re the devil with a castle, I didn’t ask to be dragged here like a freaking doll!”

Mateo gently brushed a strand of hair from her cheek, even as she swatted his hand away. His touch was warm, magnetic, infuriating.

“Listen to me, mi vida…” he whispered, leaning closer.