The sudden death of Elena Villarreal's father at the hands of two Mexican cartels, lead her to a life of fighting against the traffic of narcotics and a mission for revenge. After joining the DEA and ranking as a special agent, Elena will have to co...
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Tijuana, Baja California
I could've never imagined that the first time I'd ever get to meet my boyfriend's parents would be under such odd circumstances. First of all, he's not even my boyfriend; we're both simply equally unlucky and dislike each other to a certain extent. Second, they are all part of one of México's biggest drug organizations in the modern day. And lastly, despite all this, I truly want to make a good impression. Utterly pathetic, I'm aware.
"How's my hair? Is it too flat?" I ask Lau as I stare at my reflection in the mirror. "What about the top? Is it too much? Is the cut too low?"
"Relax–" she softens her voice, leaving her lipstick aside to glance back at me. "Your hair looks amazing. Did you blow it out?"
"Yeah..." Her eyes narrow as she sweeps them over my outfit. "Should I change?"
"Please don't." Laura beams, starting to work at her curls. "It's cute. Reminds me of Salma Hayek in Fools Rush In." My clothes right now consist of a long cotton skirt and a simple white tank top that accentuates my shoulders; for that reason, I will gladly take this as a compliment. "Now, stop asking dumb questions because I'm already running late."
"Fine..." I huff, rolling my eyes in the process and turning on my heels to get out of her room.
I try not to overcomplicate things, though it feels as if it's in my nature. The ardor of failure burns my insides, like a constant whistle that discourages my soul and my every effort. I cannot, under any conditions, founder this mission.
Technically, I have no need to carry guns nor my badge today, which makes me feel strangely uncomfortable— like there's a part or me missing whilst the ghost of it still lingers around my waist. I don't even feel like myself... But maybe that's a good thing. The Elena I must portray shall not resemble my real persona at all. She has to be different; kinder, clement, loving. She must not share my true ideals and shall be driven by passion instead of anger or revenge.
I can do that. Hopefully.
I'm surprised to notice that as soon as the clock struck twelve I was able to hear the tires of a big vehicle parking outside. I decide to vaguely peek through the window, where I find Ramón's black jeep Cherokee parked right outside my house. However, I do not open the door until the doorbell rings; when I do, what I see in front of me truthfully takes me aback.
"You brought me flowers?" I raise a brow in incredulity, doubtfully staring at the rose bouquet that he's holding.
"What does it look like?" he grumbled, carelessly handing it to me as if it was a pack of beers instead. "It was Andrea's suggestion, don't get any ideas."
"Thanks?" I don't take the gift, still slightly suspicious. "But I'm allergic to roses."
Ramón snorts sardonically, "That's a lie. Although if it were true, it would've been a really good prank."
