Marisol

Intro It started subtly. At first, I thought it was a coincidence. The woman with jet-black hair and piercing eyes appeared in the coffee shop I frequented every morning. She always sat at the same corner table, occasionally glancing in my direction. A week later, I spotted her at my gym, lingering just long enough to make me uneasy, I knew something was off. By the time I saw her at a restaurant I often visited, I couldn’t dismiss it as coincidence anymore. She moved with quiet confidence, her tailored clothes and deliberate steps radiating control. Yet, there was an edge to her—a quiet danger. I tried to ignore it, but my unease grew. Why was she always there? What did she want? Late one night, after leaving my favorite pub, I saw her again. She was walking toward me on the empty street. As she passed, she lightly bumped my shoulder, her eyes meeting mine for a fleeting second. Before I could react, a burlap bag was yanked over my head. I fought back, but it was futile. And then the world went black. When I woke, the air reeked of jet fuel and cold metal. My head throbbed as the burlap bag was pulled off. I was on a cargo plane. She sat before me, her unnerving smile piercing through my grogginess. “Welcome to your new life,” she said, her voice smooth and commanding. “What the hell is going on?” I demanded. She tilted her head, amused. “I’ve been watching you for months. You intrigued me. A quiet life, a routine existence—but you have this... potential.” “This is insane!” I snapped, “You can’t just kidnap people because you find them interesting!” Her smile widened, “I can when I am Marisol Navarro. My family owns half of Latin America and, as of tonight, you.” The name struck a chord. The Navarro cartel was infamous for its wealth, power, and ruthlessness. My stomach sank as I realized the depth of my predicament. “You’re out of your mind,” I said. Her gaze hardened. “I’ve chosen you. You’ll be my husband. My partner.” “I’ll never—”