Lucía’s heels clicked against the marble floor of Herrera Designs headquarters like a warning bell. She strode past the receptionist without a word, her presence as chilling as it was commanding. Today, she wore crimson—a power suit that seemed to bleed authority with every step.The executive boardroom was already buzzing when she entered. Conversations halted. Eyes turned.Alejandro stood at the head of the long table, jaw tight, knuckles white around the edge of the chair. “Lucía.”She smiled sweetly, sliding into a vacant seat. “Good morning, gentlemen.”He narrowed his eyes. “What are you doing here?”“Exercising my rights,” she said, tossing a thick stack of documents onto the table. “As the new owner of twenty-one percent of Herrera Designs.”Gasps echoed.“You’re bluffing,” Alejandro growled.She chuckled, leaning back in her chair. “Check the signatures. I bought your cousin Emiliano’s shares. He needed the cash. I needed leverage. Win-win.”Alejandro’s pulse pounded in his e
The luxury office of Herrera Designs had never been colder. Alejandro sat behind his desk, unmoving, eyes locked on the email from legal confirming Lucía’s new authority. The woman had played the long game, and she played it well. Twenty-one percent wasn’t enough to oust him outright—but it was enough to cause chaos. He didn’t have time for chaos. Not when he was still fighting to win Valeria back. “Sir,” his assistant said quietly over the intercom. “You have someone waiting in the lobby.” “If it’s Lucía again, tell her I’m busy choking on my pride.” “It’s not her. It’s... Valeria.” Alejandro’s breath caught. He was up and out of the chair before he could think. The elevator ride down felt like a century. When the doors opened, she was there—cool, collected, breathtaking. Her hair was tied back
The air between them was different now. After the boardroom showdown, after Valeria had exposed Lucía and stood by Alejandro when he needed it most, the lines they had drawn in their fake marriage blurred dangerously. They didn’t speak on the ride home. Words weren’t enough. Their bodies hummed with a tension that had nowhere else to go but forward. Alejandro opened the door to the penthouse and let her walk in first. She didn’t stop. Didn’t hesitate. She went straight to the bedroom, then turned to him, waiting. It was a dare. An invitation. A challenge. He followed her, his heart thundering. For weeks, they’d played the part of husband and wife for the press, for his family, for the company. But tonight, they weren’t acting. Not anymore. He closed the door behind him. Slowly. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice hoarse, betraying how much he needed her answer to be yes. She nodded. “I don’t want to think. Not tonight.” He crossed the room in three strides and pulle
Alejandro didn’t sleep the night Valeria left. He barely blinked. Her absence clung to the air like smoke, curling into every space of the penthouse. The note sat on the counter, a cruel echo of the way she had once entered his life—quiet, precise, and impossible to ignore. By morning, he was at his office, jaw clenched, eyes bloodshot. He buried himself in meetings, emails, design approvals—anything to keep from thinking about the way her skin had felt beneath his fingers. The way she had looked at him right before everything changed. But nothing could keep the memories at bay. Especially not when his assistant walked in holding a thin manila envelope with no return address. “This came for you. Hand-delivered,” she said, setting it on his desk. He stared at it. Something felt off. He opened it slowly. Inside was a single glossy photo—Valeria, younger, standing beside a man Alejandro recognized instantly: Marcos Vargas, CEO of ArqLine, Alejandro’s biggest rival in the architectur
The city blurred past the window of Alejandro’s car, but he wasn’t seeing it. Not really. He was driving without direction, one hand clenched around the steering wheel, the other clutching his phone like it might give him answers. But no message came. No apology. No explanation that would make what she’d done any less unbearable. She had lied. Lied with her silence, with her smile, with every kiss she had given him while hiding the truth about who she really was. And yet—he missed her. The scent of her shampoo still lingered on his pillow. The ghost of her laugh haunted the kitchen, the terrace, the office. And that night—the night they had finally crossed the line—he couldn’t erase the way she had looked at him. Vulnerable. Honest. Like she was handing him her whole heart. So why did it feel like he had never known her at all? Valeria stood in the middle of her studio, arms wrapped tightly around her waist. The air smelled like dust and turpentine, and her last sketch lay unfinis
Monterrey, Mexico – 7:42 a.m.The office of Herrera & Sons was as cold and polished as its CEO — sleek lines, steel accents, and silence sharp enough to cut glass.And into that silence stormed Valeria Mendoza, twenty-six, five-foot-five, soaked in caramel macchiato, and dangerously close to snapping.“¡Maldita sea!” she hissed, dabbing at her blouse with a napkin that was failing its life’s mission.The receptionist flinched. “Señorita Mendoza, are you okay?”Valeria forced a tight smile, clutching her ruined coffee cup. “Fine. Just another glamorous Monday of burning my chest and soul.”She strode toward the elevator, high ponytail swaying, heels clicking with purpose. She had five minutes to get to the top floor and deliver updated design boards to The Ice King himself — Alejandro Herrera.CEO. Architect. Walking thundercloud in a designer suit.Valeria had been Alejandro’s assistant for exactly four weeks. In that time, he had:Learned her name (barely).Criticized her font choice
“You're late.”Alejandro didn’t bother looking at her as she stepped into the sleek black town car waiting by the curb. His eyes remained glued to his phone, thumb flicking through unread emails like they were beneath him.Valeria yanked the door shut and exhaled, annoyed. “You're lucky I agreed to this insane idea at all.”He finally glanced up — crisp suit, sharp jawline, a pair of sunglasses that screamed I don’t do patience.“And yet here you are.”She narrowed her eyes. “Only because you offered to triple my salary. And I need to pay off my mom’s hospital bills.”Alejandro looked at her for a beat longer than necessary, as if trying to read between her words. Then he returned to his phone, voice flat. “You’ll need to smile more.”“I’ll smile when you’re less of a jackass.”He almost smirked. Almost.Inside the Town CarValeria smoothed down her borrowed designer dress — a sleek off-the-shoulder navy number pulled from the firm's PR closet at the last second. She looked like she b
Valeria stood outside Alejandro’s penthouse door, wine bottle in one hand, nerves twisting her stomach like ribbon. She was dressed in a fitted emerald green dress — conservative enough for a family dinner, but flattering enough to make Alejandro stare. Which she definitely wasn’t hoping for. At all.She exhaled.You can do this. Pretend. Smile. Eat. Lie. Leave.She rang the bell.The door opened instantly, revealing Alejandro — barefoot, in a black button-down rolled up at the sleeves and charcoal trousers. Casual. Sinfully casual.Valeria’s brain took a second to reboot.“You’re late,” he said, voice flat.“You’re not wearing shoes.”His mouth twitched. “You brought wine?”“You said to look convincing. Nothing screams loving fiancée like a good Malbec.”He took the bottle, their fingers brushing briefly. “You look—”Valeria raised a brow. “What?”His eyes lingered a second too long. “Convincing.”She hated how smug it made her feel.Inside the PenthouseThe place was too clean. Mode
The city blurred past the window of Alejandro’s car, but he wasn’t seeing it. Not really. He was driving without direction, one hand clenched around the steering wheel, the other clutching his phone like it might give him answers. But no message came. No apology. No explanation that would make what she’d done any less unbearable. She had lied. Lied with her silence, with her smile, with every kiss she had given him while hiding the truth about who she really was. And yet—he missed her. The scent of her shampoo still lingered on his pillow. The ghost of her laugh haunted the kitchen, the terrace, the office. And that night—the night they had finally crossed the line—he couldn’t erase the way she had looked at him. Vulnerable. Honest. Like she was handing him her whole heart. So why did it feel like he had never known her at all? Valeria stood in the middle of her studio, arms wrapped tightly around her waist. The air smelled like dust and turpentine, and her last sketch lay unfinis
Alejandro didn’t sleep the night Valeria left. He barely blinked. Her absence clung to the air like smoke, curling into every space of the penthouse. The note sat on the counter, a cruel echo of the way she had once entered his life—quiet, precise, and impossible to ignore. By morning, he was at his office, jaw clenched, eyes bloodshot. He buried himself in meetings, emails, design approvals—anything to keep from thinking about the way her skin had felt beneath his fingers. The way she had looked at him right before everything changed. But nothing could keep the memories at bay. Especially not when his assistant walked in holding a thin manila envelope with no return address. “This came for you. Hand-delivered,” she said, setting it on his desk. He stared at it. Something felt off. He opened it slowly. Inside was a single glossy photo—Valeria, younger, standing beside a man Alejandro recognized instantly: Marcos Vargas, CEO of ArqLine, Alejandro’s biggest rival in the architectur
The air between them was different now. After the boardroom showdown, after Valeria had exposed Lucía and stood by Alejandro when he needed it most, the lines they had drawn in their fake marriage blurred dangerously. They didn’t speak on the ride home. Words weren’t enough. Their bodies hummed with a tension that had nowhere else to go but forward. Alejandro opened the door to the penthouse and let her walk in first. She didn’t stop. Didn’t hesitate. She went straight to the bedroom, then turned to him, waiting. It was a dare. An invitation. A challenge. He followed her, his heart thundering. For weeks, they’d played the part of husband and wife for the press, for his family, for the company. But tonight, they weren’t acting. Not anymore. He closed the door behind him. Slowly. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice hoarse, betraying how much he needed her answer to be yes. She nodded. “I don’t want to think. Not tonight.” He crossed the room in three strides and pulle
The luxury office of Herrera Designs had never been colder. Alejandro sat behind his desk, unmoving, eyes locked on the email from legal confirming Lucía’s new authority. The woman had played the long game, and she played it well. Twenty-one percent wasn’t enough to oust him outright—but it was enough to cause chaos. He didn’t have time for chaos. Not when he was still fighting to win Valeria back. “Sir,” his assistant said quietly over the intercom. “You have someone waiting in the lobby.” “If it’s Lucía again, tell her I’m busy choking on my pride.” “It’s not her. It’s... Valeria.” Alejandro’s breath caught. He was up and out of the chair before he could think. The elevator ride down felt like a century. When the doors opened, she was there—cool, collected, breathtaking. Her hair was tied back
Lucía’s heels clicked against the marble floor of Herrera Designs headquarters like a warning bell. She strode past the receptionist without a word, her presence as chilling as it was commanding. Today, she wore crimson—a power suit that seemed to bleed authority with every step.The executive boardroom was already buzzing when she entered. Conversations halted. Eyes turned.Alejandro stood at the head of the long table, jaw tight, knuckles white around the edge of the chair. “Lucía.”She smiled sweetly, sliding into a vacant seat. “Good morning, gentlemen.”He narrowed his eyes. “What are you doing here?”“Exercising my rights,” she said, tossing a thick stack of documents onto the table. “As the new owner of twenty-one percent of Herrera Designs.”Gasps echoed.“You’re bluffing,” Alejandro growled.She chuckled, leaning back in her chair. “Check the signatures. I bought your cousin Emiliano’s shares. He needed the cash. I needed leverage. Win-win.”Alejandro’s pulse pounded in his e
The city lights of the City of Monterrey twinkled beneath them as Alejandro and Valeria stood side by side on the rooftop terrace. The air was cool, a slight breeze tugging at their clothes as they leaned against the low stone wall, looking out at the skyline. For a moment, everything was silent—just the hum of the city below and the soft rustle of leaves in the wind.But silence, like everything else between them, had become charged with something more.Valeria could feel the weight of Alejandro’s presence beside her. His broad shoulders, his strong scent, the subtle tension in the air whenever their gazes met. She couldn’t ignore it anymore. She couldn’t pretend that the flutter in her chest when their hands brushed was just coincidence, that the warmth that spread through her veins when he smiled was something she could easily shake off.They were supposed to be pretending.This was just a business arrangement. A contract.But why did it feel like everything was slowly unraveling?
Valeria sat on the floor of her room, photos spread out in front of her like shrapnel. Alejandro holding Lucía’s hand. Lucía wearing a wedding band. Lucía… in a hospital gown. Seven months ago. That was the part that wouldn't stop echoing in her head. Seven months ago, Alejandro had stood in a hospital room with a woman he claimed to have “lost years ago.” And now he was married again? She didn’t know what was worse — the lies, or the way her heart still ached for him anyway. The knock came like thunder. She didn’t answer. The door opened anyway. Alejandro stepped in, hair tousled, breath sharp. He must’ve run here. “You got it,” he said quietly, eyes darting to the envelope in her lap. Valeria looked up slowly, her expression blank. “What was she doing in a hospital, Alejandro?” He didn’t speak. Not right away. Then, voice low: “She was pregnant.” Valeria’s stomach flipped. “I didn’t know,” he said quickly. “I hadn’t seen her in years. She showed
Valeria didn’t sleep that night.She sat frozen at the edge of her bed, the laptop screen still glowing.Alejandro had been married before.And somehow, he had never mentioned it.She read the article three times. The details were scarce — intentionally buried, maybe. The woman’s name was Lucía Marín. A journalist from Guadalajara. The marriage had lasted all of six months before it imploded in a media blackout.The final sentence was what stuck with her:Neither party commented. The bride disappeared from the public eye.Valeria’s skin prickled.How do you marry someone, erase them from your life, and then pretend they never existed?She slammed the laptop shut, heart pounding, and marched straight down the hallway.Alejandro’s RoomShe didn’t knock.He was shirtless, standing near his window with a glass of whiskey in hand, bathed in city light and shadows.When he turned, his eyes darkened. “Valeria—?”“You were married before.”No hesitation. No warm-up. Just the truth.His face s
The invitation arrived in a sleek black envelope, sealed with gold foil and far too much drama.The Annual Gala for Latinx Architects & Designers.Valeria stared at the RSVP card like it might explode.She’d been to events before — gallery openings, small design expos — but this? This was the Met Gala of architecture. And now she wasn’t just a guest.She was Alejandro Herrera’s wife.Even if only on paper.Her stomach twisted.The Night of the GalaValeria stood in front of the full-length mirror in a wine-red, silk satin dress. The slit was dangerously high, the neckline dangerously low, and the fabric clung to her like temptation itself.When she walked downstairs, Alejandro stood at the base of the staircase waiting.And for the first time, he forgot how to breathe.“You look…” His voice cracked. “...like a beautiful mistake I’d gladly keep making.”She rolled her eyes — but her cheeks flushed. “You’re full of lines, Herrera.”“And you’re full of surprises, señora Herrera.”At the