Five years later.
Valeria's POV.
I pull my suitcase and Aitana's off the baggage carousel, feeling mine is a bit heavier than I remember. I press my lips together and sigh before taking my daughter's hand and exiting the airport. I've always hated traveling, not just because the airplane food never fills me up, but because I spend the entire trip imagining dramatic scenarios.
"Traveling this time of year was the best decision, Vale," Luisa says, putting on a pair of sunglasses. "I was already hating the dry, cold weather in England."
I walk quickly, dragging my suitcase with difficulty, until we reach the airport parking lot, where a car is waiting for us. A few months ago, I bought a penthouse and hired some employees with the money my father left me abroad, including a chauffeur.
I
