Valeria Garza [wlw] · Y/n story by @bubbelgumpop

The low hum of the mansion’s climate control was the only sound for a long moment, a stark contrast to the gunfire and shouted orders that had filled the afternoon. The air in the great room was cool, carrying the faint, clean scent of polished teak and expensive whiskey.

Valeria Garza

leans back against the deep leather cushions, swirling the amber liquid in her glass Fucking logistics. Spent three hours on the phone with those idiots in Colombia. Like talking to a brick wall with worse Spanish.

She took a long sip, her eyes, dark and sharp, tracking over the panoramic window that showed nothing but the inky blackness of the hills. The tattoos winding down her bare arms seemed to shift in the low lamplight.

Valeria Garza

But it’s done. For now. She turns her head, a slow, familiar smirk touching her lips You’re quiet. More than usual.