In Miami, the night was lit up with a thousand lights. The neon signs of the bars sparkled like promises of freedom, and the sea in the distance seemed to sing with the laughter of passersby. It was a city where everything seemed possible, where destinies crossed in the glow of lights and the intoxication of reunions.
Alejandro Mendoza, only son of Ramiro Mendoza—known for his troubles and dark dealings—was seated at a lively bar. Beside him were his best friend Luis Ortega, his childhood friend Valeria Cruz, and a friend of Luis, Sofía Delgado. The four of them drank to their reunion, celebrating the wonders that had recently happened in their lives.
Alejandro, smiling, made the introductions:
— This is Valeria. She just arrived from Madrid, just like me.
Luis added enthusiastically:
— Yes, the three of us are from there. We've known each other since childhood.
Sofía, surprised but pleased, nodded with a smile. Luis continued, proud of his roots:
— Our fathers have been friends for a long time. Luis's father is the mayor, and mine, like Rami's, is a rancher.
Sofía noticed they never called Ramiro by his full name, always shortening it, as if to avoid saying it fully.
They raised their glasses laughing:
— To Madrid! Cheers! Cheers!
Valeria, curious, asked:
— And you, Sofía? Your parents must be important here?
Sofía answered sincerely:
— To me, they are. They aren't rich, but thanks to their efforts, I was able to attend the best schools.
Luis proudly intervened:
— She's so smart she earned a scholarship.
Alejandro raised his glass to her:
— Ahhh, then cheers to Sofía!
They drank more, talked at length, laughing and sharing memories and plans. The evening stretched in Miami's warmth until they decided to go home, hearts light, carried by friendship and promises of a bright future.
Meanwhile, in Madrid, the night thickened under a heavy rain. Drops hammered the windshield of a black car speeding through the darkness. Inside, Ramiro Mendoza was still driving, his face covered by a hood, like a ghost hidden in the storm.
The phone suddenly vibrated. He stopped on the roadside, took a deep breath, then slowly removed his hood. His face was marked by fatigue, but his eyes shone with a strange, almost satisfied gleam.
He answered.
— Yes, my love, he said softly, almost lightly. I'm coming home. I was held up... but believe me, it was worth it. It was a good night... truly incredible.
At the other end, Elena Mendoza, his wife, spoke tenderly. Ramiro closed his eyes for a moment, as if savoring the contrast between the warmth of her voice and the darkness of his deeds.
— Yes, my love, he repeated before hanging up.
He remained still for a few seconds, staring at the road ahead. The rain continued to fall relentlessly, but in his gaze was a cold satisfaction. Ramiro Mendoza had just sealed a fate, and he bore the silent pride of it.
Elsewhere, Isabella had managed to escape. Her clothes were stained, her hair plastered by the rain, and her bare feet sank into the icy mud. For a moment, she believed no one was following her, but soon, the headlights of a car tore through the darkness. Ramiro's men had found her.
She ran again and again, gasping, breath short, fear vibrating even in her soaked hair. The car relentlessly pursued her, its tires splashing water on the soaked ground.
Finally, she reached a place where the path narrowed, impossible for the vehicle to advance. The door slammed. A man got out. It was Hugo Salazar, Ramiro Mendoza's right-hand man, still hooded.
He started running after her, determined, for his mission was clear: to eliminate her.
The chase was long, exhausting. Isabella stumbled, got up, her legs heavy but her survival instinct pushed her to continue.
At last, she found herself facing a raging river, its roaring waters carrying branches and stones. She had no way out.
Hugo approached, satisfied to see her trapped.
Isabella, tears mixed with rain, begged:
— Don't kill me... please, don't kill me...
But with a brutal gesture, Hugo raised his weapon and fired. The shot echoed in the night. Isabella fell backward, her body struck by pain, and tumbled into the turbulent river. Her eyes, filled with suffering, closed as the current carried her away.
Hugo, meanwhile, had removed his hood. He watched for a moment the silhouette of Isabella disappear into the river's agitated waters. A cold smile appeared on his face. Satisfied, he got back into his car and left the scene, leaving behind the rain and the tumult of the Madrid night.
Thousands of miles away, in Miami, the atmosphere was quite different. Alejandro Mendoza and Valeria Cruz staggered through the streets, still drunk from their evening. Alejandro, laughing, struggled to stand but managed to lead her to her apartment.
The door opened to a magnificent interior: a luxurious apartment bathed in warm light that contrasted with the coolness of the night.
Alejandro said ironically:
— Come in...
Then, regaining some composure, he added:
— Want a beer?
Valeria shook her head:
— No, no... tell me what's going on in your life. It's been so long since we've seen each other.
Alejandro shrugged, pouring himself a glass:
— Oh, well, nothing... it's pretty calm. A bit of school, studying, parties...
He smiled and raised his glass.
— Gotta party, right?
Valeria looked at him curiously:
— And... are you seeing anyone?
Alejandro replied laughing:
— No, and you? You must have broken some hearts leaving.
Valeria, in a somewhat suspicious tone, answered:
— No, no...
Alejandro frowned, amused:
— Ahhh... as if I didn't believe you.
She finally admitted, embarrassed:
— Well... yes. I was dating someone I adored. But I realized he was very different from me.
Alejandro approached, his gaze more serious:
— Do I know him?
Valeria stepped back slightly, uncomfortable:
— Doesn't matter... it's over.
Alejandro stared at her for a moment, then gently asked:
— Valeria... does it hurt to think about him?
She shook her head:
— No. He clearly wasn't made for me.
Alejandro smiled, returning to his cheerful tone:
— Well, I'll make sure you have a good time here, okay?
— Yesss! she replied enthusiastically.
— I'll take you to the best restaurants in town. We'll laugh everywhere. And who knows... you'll probably meet your great love.
Valeria burst out laughing, and the tension evaporated.
Later, they fell asleep, rocked by Miami's warmth and the promises of a carefree tomorrow.
The next day, in a more modest ranch than those of the Mendozas or the Cruzes, Mariana López was thinking about her future. In debt, she was trying to recover from her defeats. She had asked her friend Javier Morales for help, hoping for some relief.
The door of her house was open when Javier arrived laughing:
— Mariana López!
He held up two envelopes and said:
— I brought you what you asked for.
Mariana, relieved, hurried to take them:
— Thank you, thank you Javier. I'll pay you back everything. The vet is coming soon to vaccinate my animals, and this month has been... pfff.
Javier looked at her seriously:
— But why don't you go to the United States with your family?
Mariana shook her head, a glint of determination in her eyes:
— Why? No. This is my ranch. I'm very happy here.
— Your family is doing very well there. You should think about it. This ranch only brings you problems.
Mariana gently tapped her forehead with the envelopes, as if to convince herself:
— No... but that will change very soon.
And you, you're a bad friend.
— Why? Javier asked, surprised.
— Because you want to watch over me instead of helping me. Imagine if I asked you to stop fishing your tuna...
Javier stood up, mock offended:
— Never! This tuna and I have a destiny.
Mariana burst out laughing:
— A destiny? You've never caught a single one!
— With yesterday's rain, the river must be full of tuna. Let's go!
— Come on, let's go, Mariana replied laughing.
They ran together to the river bridge. Javier took down his cooler, walking along the bridge with Mariana. They talked, laughed, and Javier finally said more seriously:
— I hope you have enough money to pay your ranch workers. That will help you move forward.
Mariana replied confidently:
— It will come, you'll see.
Arriving at the boat, Javier put down the cooler. But suddenly, he stepped back, shocked, staring at something in the distance.
Mariana, intrigued, asked:
— What's wrong?
He raised his hand, eyes wide:
— Wait... look over there.
Mariana turned, heart pounding. On a rock, lying, soaked and bloody, they saw a woman.
Javier whispered, upset:
— Who is this woman...
Mariana covered her mouth, horrified.
A woman, dying, lay before them, her fate suspended at that moment.
Look, she's alive!Title: "She's Not Dead"
In Miami, the night was lit up with a thousand lights. The neon signs of the bars sparkled like promises of freedom, and the sea in the distance seemed to sing with the laughter of passersby. It was a city where everything seemed possible, where destinies crossed in the glow of lights and the intoxication of reunions.
Alejandro Mendoza, only son of Ramiro Mendoza—known for his troubles and dark dealings—was seated at a lively bar. Beside him were his best friend Luis Ortega, his childhood friend Valeria Cruz, and a friend of Luis, Sofía Delgado. The four of them drank to their reunion, celebrating the wonders that had recently happened in their lives.
Alejandro, smiling, made the introductions:
— This is Valeria. She just arrived from Madrid, just like me.
Luis added enthusiastically:
— Yes, the three of us are from there. We've known each other since childhood.
Sofía, surprised but pleased, nodded with a smile. Luis continued, proud of his roots:
— Our fathers have been friends for a long time. Luis's father is the mayor, and mine, like Rami's, is a rancher.
Sofía noticed they never called Ramiro by his full name, always shortening it, as if to avoid saying it fully.
They raised their glasses laughing:
— To Madrid! Cheers! Cheers!
Valeria, curious, asked:
— And you, Sofía? Your parents must be important here?
Sofía answered sincerely:
— To me, they are. They aren't rich, but thanks to their efforts, I was able to attend the best schools.
Luis proudly intervened:
— She's so smart she earned a scholarship.
Alejandro raised his glass to her:
— Ahhh, then cheers to Sofía!
They drank more, talked at length, laughing and sharing memories and plans. The evening stretched in Miami's warmth until they decided to go home, hearts light, carried by friendship and promises of a bright future.
Meanwhile, in Madrid, the night thickened under a heavy rain. Drops hammered the windshield of a black car speeding through the darkness. Inside, Ramiro Mendoza was still driving, his face covered by a hood, like a ghost hidden in the storm.
The phone suddenly vibrated. He stopped on the roadside, took a deep breath, then slowly removed his hood. His face was marked by fatigue, but his eyes shone with a strange, almost satisfied gleam.
He answered.
— Yes, my love, he said softly, almost lightly. I'm coming home. I was held up... but believe me, it was worth it. It was a good night... truly incredible.
At the other end, Elena Mendoza, his wife, spoke tenderly. Ramiro closed his eyes for a moment, as if savoring the contrast between the warmth of her voice and the darkness of his deeds.
— Yes, my love, he repeated before hanging up.
He remained still for a few seconds, staring at the road ahead. The rain continued to fall relentlessly, but in his gaze was a cold satisfaction. Ramiro Mendoza had just sealed a fate, and he bore the silent pride of it.
Elsewhere, Isabella had managed to escape. Her clothes were stained, her hair plastered by the rain, and her bare feet sank into the icy mud. For a moment, she believed no one was following her, but soon, the headlights of a car tore through the darkness. Ramiro's men had found her.
She ran again and again, gasping, breath short, fear vibrating even in her soaked hair. The car relentlessly pursued her, its tires splashing water on the soaked ground.
Finally, she reached a place where the path narrowed, impossible for the vehicle to advance. The door slammed. A man got out. It was Hugo Salazar, Ramiro Mendoza's right-hand man, still hooded.
He started running after her, determined, for his mission was clear: to eliminate her.
The chase was long, exhausting. Isabella stumbled, got up, her legs heavy but her survival instinct pushed her to continue.
At last, she found herself facing a raging river, its roaring waters carrying branches and stones. She had no way out.
Hugo approached, satisfied to see her trapped.
Isabella, tears mixed with rain, begged:
— Don't kill me... please, don't kill me...
But with a brutal gesture, Hugo raised his weapon and fired. The shot echoed in the night. Isabella fell backward, her body struck by pain, and tumbled into the turbulent river. Her eyes, filled with suffering, closed as the current carried her away.
Hugo, meanwhile, had removed his hood. He watched for a moment the silhouette of Isabella disappear into the river's agitated waters. A cold smile appeared on his face. Satisfied, he got back into his car and left the scene, leaving behind the rain and the tumult of the Madrid night.
Thousands of miles away, in Miami, the atmosphere was quite different. Alejandro Mendoza and Valeria Cruz staggered through the streets, still drunk from their evening. Alejandro, laughing, struggled to stand but managed to lead her to her apartment.
The door opened to a magnificent interior: a luxurious apartment bathed in warm light that contrasted with the coolness of the night.
Alejandro said ironically:
— Come in...
Then, regaining some composure, he added:
— Want a beer?
Valeria shook her head:
— No, no... tell me what's going on in your life. It's been so long since we've seen each other.
Alejandro shrugged, pouring himself a glass:
— Oh, well, nothing... it's pretty calm. A bit of school, studying, parties...
He smiled and raised his glass.
— Gotta party, right?
Valeria looked at him curiously:
— And... are you seeing anyone?
Alejandro replied laughing:
— No, and you? You must have broken some hearts leaving.
Valeria, in a somewhat suspicious tone, answered:
— No, no...
Alejandro frowned, amused:
— Ahhh... as if I didn't believe you.
She finally admitted, embarrassed:
— Well... yes. I was dating someone I adored. But I realized he was very different from me.
Alejandro approached, his gaze more serious:
— Do I know him?
Valeria stepped back slightly, uncomfortable:
— Doesn't matter... it's over.
Alejandro stared at her for a moment, then gently asked:
— Valeria... does it hurt to think about him?
She shook her head:
— No. He clearly wasn't made for me.
Alejandro smiled, returning to his cheerful tone:
— Well, I'll make sure you have a good time here, okay?
— Yesss! she replied enthusiastically.
— I'll take you to the best restaurants in town. We'll laugh everywhere. And who knows... you'll probably meet your great love.
Valeria burst out laughing, and the tension evaporated.
Later, they fell asleep, rocked by Miami's warmth and the promises of a carefree tomorrow.
The next day, in a more modest ranch than those of the Mendozas or the Cruzes, Mariana López was thinking about her future. In debt, she was trying to recover from her defeats. She had asked her friend Javier Morales for help, hoping for some relief.
The door of her house was open when Javier arrived laughing:
— Mariana López!
He held up two envelopes and said:
— I brought you what you asked for.
Mariana, relieved, hurried to take them:
— Thank you, thank you Javier. I'll pay you back everything. The vet is coming soon to vaccinate my animals, and this month has been... pfff.
Javier looked at her seriously:
— But why don't you go to the United States with your family?
Mariana shook her head, a glint of determination in her eyes:
— Why? No. This is my ranch. I'm very happy here.
— Your family is doing very well there. You should think about it. This ranch only brings you problems.
Mariana gently tapped her forehead with the envelopes, as if to convince herself:
— No... but that will change very soon.
And you, you're a bad friend.
— Why? Javier asked, surprised.
— Because you want to watch over me instead of helping me. Imagine if I asked you to stop fishing your tuna...
Javier stood up, mock offended:
— Never! This tuna and I have a destiny.
Mariana burst out laughing:
— A destiny? You've never caught a single one!
— With yesterday's rain, the river must be full of tuna. Let's go!
— Come on, let's go, Mariana replied laughing.
They ran together to the river bridge. Javier took down his cooler, walking along the bridge with Mariana. They talked, laughed, and Javier finally said more seriously:
— I hope you have enough money to pay your ranch workers. That will help you move forward.
Mariana replied confidently:
— It will come, you'll see.
Arriving at the boat, Javier put down the cooler. But suddenly, he stepped back, shocked, staring at something in the distance.
Mariana, intrigued, asked:
— What's wrong?
He raised his hand, eyes wide:
— Wait... look over there.
Mariana turned, heart pounding. On a rock, lying, soaked and bloody, they saw a woman.
Javier whispered, upset:
— Who is this woman...
Mariana covered her mouth, horrified.
A woman, dying, lay before them, her fate suspended at that moment.
Look, she's alive!