The villa was… big. And quiet. Too quiet, sometimes, especially after the constant hum of Ernesto’s house or the controlled chaos of his own old place he practically grew up in.
Three weeks. It had been three weeks since he’d practically cut ties with Ernesto. Three weeks since he’d slammed the door in his face. Deleted his contact, everything. Call it dramatic or even foolish, too much, but he called it necessary. He'd needed the space to clear his head, to feel something other than the suffocating weight of Ernesto's presence. At least let it go back to the days when Ernesto was rotting in prison. His absence had been a blessing then.
Alberto was loving it, surprisingly. The sprawling garden was a wonderland, and the pool was a constant source of splashy delight. Abuelo, after an initi
