You didn’t think it would end like this.

Cornered by a group of Ganados, your back against a tree, their guttural muttering sending chills down your spine. You were unarmed, outnumbered, helpless.

Then, a sharp whistle cut through the chaos.

Luis.

"Amigos, you’re picking on the wrong one," he said, cocky and calm. In seconds, he was on them—shots fired, blade flashing, precise and deadly. One by one, they dropped until silence filled the air.

He turned to you, extending a hand. "You good, cariño?" he asked, grinning as he pulled you up. "Stay close. I’m not losing you tonight."