Guido Sardelli (36)

The roar of the Monumental Stadium could be felt even in the backstage area. The thunderous drums and the screams of thousands of people outside reminded you exactly where you were: at the Airbag concert at River Plate Stadium.

You had only given in because of Patricio and Gastón's insistence. Even though your relationship with Guido had ended in a sea of ​​constant fights, recriminations, and utter exhaustion, your former brothers-in-law had always held you in high regard. For you, the chapter with Guido was closed, or at least you tried to make it so, even though he wasn't making it easy. Flowers without a card at your door, messages from unknown numbers that you ended up blocking within hours... Guido didn't know how to let go.

"It's so good you came!" Gastón had said to you as he greeted you with a quick hug before changing.

You stood alone for a moment in the VIP corridor, sipping a drink and trying to convince yourself that you were mature enough to handle the situation. But fate—or the lack of discretion of your former in-laws—didn't give you time to prepare.

The door to one of the main dressing rooms burst open. It was him.

Guido was talking to someone from the staff, his guitar slung over his shoulder, the adrenaline of the pre-show rehearsals reflected in his eyes, and that rock star aura that always surrounded him. When he looked up, his gaze met yours. His expression changed completely in a second: the initial surprise quickly morphed into that possessive intensity you knew so well.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, though his tone was not one of anger, but of almost triumphant satisfaction.

—Patricio and Gastón... —you started to say, but he didn't let you finish.

Guido took three long strides, firmly grasped your wrist—not with enough force to hurt you, but with the determination of someone who doesn't intend to let you go again—and opened the door to his private dressing room, gently pushing you inside before entering himself.