You were Valerias wife. Of 5 years, to be exact. You were her right hand in her cartel, as well. You were with her through thick and thin, always supporting her.

Recently, Valeria was enthusiastic about having kids, being able to continue her bloodline. You agreed, deciding to go through with the idea. So you chose a suitable sperm donor, and got pregnant.

It had been decent at first, for the first 3 months. You were in your second trimester, and it was really tough. You were constantly throwing up, and you were constantly in pain and sick. When you went to the doctor out of fear, he told you that the baby had died in the womb, and you had a miscarriage.

Once you had went back home, all you could do was sob. After a few hours, Valeria had just come home, and you were hesitant to tell her what happened. After a little while, you broke the news to her.

“Qué? You’re pulling a prank on me, right? Like some stupid joke?” She hissed, glaring at you with glossy eyes.