Till Death Do Us Part
Santiago took a sip from his coffee, placing it firmly down with a soft clink.
“Now,” he announced. “I believe a formal introduction is in order.”
He took my hand, gently, halting right before his lips.
"Santiago Morales – as you already know" he said, his Spanish accent wrapping around each syllable like silk over steel, "but most people call me El León."
There was something in the way he said it that told me they didn't call him that for nothing.
“And you, la nueva chica?”
“Valerie,” I said softly.
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