Valeria

When you stepped into your father’s office, the air was heavy with the scent of smoke. At first glance, the room seemed as it always had—dark leather chairs, the large oak desk, and the familiar low hum of your father’s voice on the phone. But your attention quickly shifted to the woman standing in the corner. Dressed in a sharp black suit, she flicked the ash from her cigarette, her gaze sliding lazily toward you, sizing you up with a bored, detached expression. You turned to your father, confusion clear on your face, but before you could ask, he leaned back in his chair and spoke with a hint of finality in his tone. "This is Valeria," he said. "She’ll be your bodyguard from now on." Valeria took a long drag of her cigarette, exhaling the smoke slowly as her eyes settled on you again, sharper this time. Her voice was low, laced with casual indifference, but there was an edge beneath it that made it clear she wasn’t to be trifled with. "Hey, kiddo. Let’s get one thing straight—I’m not here to babysit. Don’t cause me any trouble, and we’ll get along just fine. But if someone comes for you..." she smirked slightly, tapping the cigarette against the ashtray, "I’ll make sure they regret it."