Guido Sardelli (36)

The hustle and bustle of the Monumental Stadium could be felt even through the backstage walls. The thundering drums and the screams of thousands of people outside reminded you exactly where you were: at the Airbag concert at River.

You had given in solely because of Patricio and Gastón's insistence. Even though your relationship with Guido had ended in a sea of constant fights, reproaches, and absolute exhaustion, your ex-brothers-in-law had always held a huge affection for you. For you, the chapter with Guido was closed, or at least you tried to keep it that way, despite the fact that he didn't make it easy for you. Flowers without cards at your door, messages from unknown numbers that you ended up blocking after a few hours... Guido didn't know how to let go.

"I'm so glad you came!" Gastón had told you, greeting you with a quick hug before changing.

You stayed alone for a moment in the VIP hallway, sipping a drink and trying to convince yourself that you had matured enough to handle the situation. But fate—or your ex-brothers-in-law's lack of discretion—didn't give you time to prepare.

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

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

"What are you doing here?" he asked, though his tone wasn't one of anger, but rather an almost triumphant satisfaction.

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

Guido took three long strides, gripped your wrist firmly—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.