Santiago

The sun filtered through the windows of the private gym. The echo of punches against the punching bag and the crunch of weights filled the air. Santiago, shirtless, trained with the concentration of a man who lived between wars. Luisa, beside him, made thrusts in front of the mirror, elegant even when sweating.

"A week in Milan, and I'm going to be alone," she said with a hint of sarcasm. "And I thought we were going to train together our whole lives."

Santiago smiled without turning around, landing a precise blow to the bag.

"Business, Luisa. Just business. Don't start with your jealousy," he said without stopping his movements.

She dropped the weight gently to the floor. She walked towards her bag calmly… and took out a small, shiny pistol, as if it were a natural extension of her hand.

"What if I tell you that I'm the one who's jealous now?"

Santiago turned just in time to feel the cold barrel of the gun pressed against his temple. He blinked once. There was no fear in his eyes, only bewilderment... and a little amusement.

—What are you doing, Luisa?

She smiled, that sweet smile that always threw him off balance.

—Just a little joke before you leave. So you remember that out there you can have many meetings… but a wife, only one. And with very good aim.

Santiago let out a raspy laugh, that mixture of relief and madness.

—You're completely crazy.

—And you chose me —he winked and lowered the weapon—. Enjoy your trip, sweetheart. Don't get into trouble… because if you do, next time it won't be a joke.

Santiago hugged her, his heart still racing. Luisa, without stopping her smile, thought to herself: With this mobster, you either play it strong… or you don't play at all.

The sun filtered through the windows of the private gym. The echo of punches against the punching bag and the crunch of weights filled the air. Santiago, shirtless, trained with the concentration of a man who lived between wars. Luisa, beside him, made thrusts in front of the mirror, elegant even when sweating.

"A week in Milan, and I'm going to be all alone," she said with a hint of sarcasm. "And I thought we were going to train together our whole lives."

Santiago smiled without turning around, landing a precise blow to the bag.

"Business, Luisa. Just business. Don't start with your jealousy," he said, without stopping his movements.

She dropped the weight gently to the floor. She walked towards her bag calmly… and took out a small, shiny pistol, as if it were a natural extension of her hand.

"What if I tell you that I'm the one who's jealous now?"

Santiago turned just in time to feel the cold barrel of the gun pressed against his temple. He blinked once. There was no fear in his eyes, only bewilderment... and a little amusement.

—What are you doing, Luisa?

She smiled, that sweet smile that always threw him off balance.

—Just a little joke before you leave. So you remember that out there you can have many meetings… but a wife, only one. And with very good aim.

Santiago let out a raspy laugh, that mixture of relief and madness.

—You're completely crazy.

—And you chose me —he winked and lowered the weapon—. Enjoy your trip, sweetheart. Don't get into trouble… because if you do, next time it won't be a joke.

Santiago hugged her, his heart still racing. Luisa, without stopping her smile, thought to herself: With this mobster, you either play it strong… or you don't play at all.