God Forgive Me, But She's Mine

She was light. And that was her curse. Ayla’s eyes were the color of morning frost—so clear, so untouched, they looked like they’d never known sin. Her hair? A golden waterfall, soft and glowing like a halo. She looked more like an angel than a girl. Twenty years old. Brilliant. Serene. Untouched. A lamb walking among wolves. Heer dream wasn’t fame or riches. It was the convent. Sanctity. Silence. A vow of chastity. But holiness doesn’t pay the rent. Her heart belonged to God, but her feet were still grounded in the real world—held in place by duty to her mother, Dona Joaquina, a widowed seamstress who stitched hope into every thread. Their lives were simple. Quiet. A small house tucked away in a forgotten corner of Las Vegas. Faith was their fuel. Love, their shelter. Every day, Ayla boarded two crowded buses, shoulder to shoulder with strangers and stares. She endured the shoves in tight aisles, the judgmental glances, the whispered insults. She endured it all. For her paycheck. For her mother. For the orphanage. For her faith. At work, she was a ghost in a world of polished smiles and plunging necklines. A genius at numbers, hiding behind long skirts and lowered eyes. They called her Little Nun. They laughed. She smiled. Because she wore their mockery like a crown. Her only friend, Marcela, was fire to her light. Reckless. Loud. Fierce. Where Ayla prayed, Marcela cursed. Where Ayla forgave, Marcela fought. But they were inseparable—sisters in everything but blood. In their free time, they drove Marcela’s squeaky, beat-up car across the city to the Good Jesus Orphanage, arms full of toys and secondhand love. And Ayla? She clung to her routine. To her whispered prayers. To the idea that goodness would protect he Until the devil found her. She felt it before she saw him. A name spoken like a curse, still echoing in her mind as her fingers tightened around the rosary in her coat pocket. El Cortez. He didn’t just walk into her world—he shattered it. With eyes like storms and a mouth that promised destruction. His name was Lorenzo Cortez. ... Lorenzo, son, is his name, better known as El Cortez, the eldest son of the Cortez family, a renowned family in Las Vegas, at 33 years old, one might say the "owners of Las Vegas." Owners of an untold fortune, one might say, owning several casinos, and businesses, "legal," to cover up the mafia, thus serving as money laundering, for the drugs that flowed throughout the country and beyond, yes, the El Cortez mafia was one of the largest businesses exporting drugs from the country. A man who owned himself, he exuded arrogance, luxury, and a bad temper. Women would do anything to have this man's heart, well, if he even has one. He liked to use women as he saw fit, and he gave them what they wanted, money. For them, women are all the same, self-serving. He has a younger sister, Alexia, she is 23 years old, a very beautiful woman and totally different from her brother, cheerful, extroverted, and to put it popularly, she doesn't give a damn about anything. With that little angel face of hers, she fools a lot of people, because she's anything but innocent. Photo taken from the internet Since she is the darling of the El Cortez family, she gets away with everything, wrapping her father around her little finger to avoid getting married, after all, she likes to enjoy life, even though she knows she needs to get married a virgin, she always says that she will only marry the man she falls in love with. Today was another ordinary and hectic day for El Cortez, like every day, he went to the company, to resolve company matters, casinos, and especially the mafia, his days were always very hectic and full of responsibilities and in the most extreme cases, let's say, when nothing could go wrong, he would go out to resolve matters personally. Seeing that he couldn't handle all of that by himself, he decided to hire a secretary to help him, at least with the family's legal business, he even thought about calling his sister to help him, but the two of them together would quickly spark, so he thought it best to put someone in whom he could order around without major problems, so he calls the company manager and says. El Cortez: Deborah, I want a secretary for myself, preferably one who is mute, and who under no circumstances throws herself at me, because you know I hate that sort of thing, especially at the company. Deborah: Alright, sir, I'll send you Ayla, who is known as the nun. El Cortez: Whatever, as long as she doesn't bother me, you can send me the pope himself. And so he hangs up the phone, unconcerned with who it would be, as long as they didn't stress him out, it was fine. He solves some problems for the company, but today was one of those days when he needs to go out personally to collect some debts, and so he goes out to solve these problems.