Chapter Six: Morning Chaos
1278 Words
Monterrey, Mexico – 7:00 a.m.
The sun had barely risen over the skyline when Valeria stumbled into the sleek kitchen of Alejandro’s penthouse, her hair a tousled mess and her oversized T-shirt slipping off one shoulder. She squinted against the light pouring through the massive floor-to-ceiling windows.
Who needed that much sunlight anyway?
She shuffled barefoot across the cold marble, muttering curses about rich people and their obsession with minimalism. Where were the curtains? Where was the coziness?
Instead, the penthouse screamed cold efficiency. Black granite counters, sharp-edged furniture, and a silence so heavy it made her ears ring.
"Coffee," she grumbled, opening random cabinets in search of the sacred beans.
She didn't hear Alejandro behind her until his smooth, deep voice sliced through the stillness.
"Third cabinet from the left."
Valeria yelped, nearly knocking over a crystal glass.
Alejandro stood by the entrance, impeccable in black joggers and a fitted T-shirt that did terrible, terrible things to her sanity. His hair was slightly tousled, giving him an unfair advantage this early in the morning.
"You’re a menace," she accused, pressing a hand to her thudding heart.
"You’re noisy," he retorted, strolling past her to the coffee machine like he hadn't just caused a mini-heart attack.
Valeria scowled but obeyed, finding the coffee beans exactly where he said. She busied herself making a strong brew, aware of Alejandro moving around the kitchen with an ease that felt... intimate.
Too intimate.
They were supposed to be faking a relationship, not actually living like some domestic couple.
"You're an early riser," she said, trying for casual.
Alejandro shrugged. "Habit. Discipline is necessary when you run a company."
"And be a control freak?"
A corner of his mouth lifted. "That too."
She poured two mugs without asking if he wanted one. It seemed safer than pretending they weren’t locked into this absurd situation together.
Handing him a cup, she allowed herself a brief second to study him — how his fingers curled around the ceramic, how his eyes softened just slightly when he inhaled the scent of fresh coffee.
Human. Alejandro Herrera was actually human in the mornings.
"Thanks," he said, surprising her.
"You’re welcome," she replied, equally startled.
They sipped in silence, the air between them oddly charged, and Valeria became acutely aware of everything — the ticking of the wall clock, the way Alejandro leaned against the counter with effortless confidence, the fact that she wasn’t wearing a bra under her stupid, thin T-shirt.
Kill me now.
She crossed her arms over her chest and cleared her throat. "So...what’s the plan for today?"
Alejandro set his mug down. "We have brunch with the new investors. Then a photoshoot for the magazine feature."
"Magazine?" she squeaked.
"Business Elite. They want a spread on Herrera & Sons’ 'family values' approach," he said, using air quotes with a cynical smirk.
Valeria groaned. "How are we supposed to look like a 'family values' couple when you barely tolerate my breathing?"
Alejandro’s gaze dropped to her lips before darting away. "We’ll manage."
The way he said it sent a shiver down her spine.
Before she could unpack that dangerous little moment, he pushed off the counter.
"Get ready," he said over his shoulder. "We leave in an hour."
"And wear what?" she called after him.
He paused. "Something... soft. Approachable. No armor."
Valeria blinked. No armor?
In other words: no power suits, no killer heels, no defenses.
Easier said than done.
8:15 a.m. – Dressing Room
Valeria stared at the array of outfits sprawled across the massive bed in the guest room.
Soft and approachable, huh? That wasn't exactly her comfort zone. She had built her entire professional persona on sharp lines and bold colors.
After twenty minutes of painful deliberation, she settled on a pastel blue wrap dress that somehow managed to be elegant without screaming "hire me." She added simple pearl studs and low nude heels. Her makeup was minimal but polished.
When she stepped out into the hallway, Alejandro was already waiting — and the way his gaze raked over her sent heat flooding her cheeks.
"You look..." he began, then seemed to catch himself. "Appropriate."
Valeria rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop the little thrill that zipped through her.
"You clean up okay yourself," she said lightly.
Alejandro’s lips twitched, and for a brief, insane moment, she wondered what it would be like if this wasn’t fake. If the admiration in his eyes was real.
Stop it, Valeria.
"Ready?" he asked.
"Born ready," she said, trying to summon confidence.
9:00 a.m. – Investor Brunch
The brunch was held at a high-end hotel downtown, with white linen tablecloths, fresh flower centerpieces, and a string quartet providing soft background music.
Valeria kept her smile fixed as they mingled with the investors — old-school businessmen in tailored suits, their wives in pearls and Chanel. She played her part to perfection: the supportive fiancée, the loving partner.
Alejandro was equally flawless, his hand resting lightly on the small of her back, his smile reserved but warm when he introduced her.
She lost track of how many times she laughed at a joke that wasn’t funny, how many times she accepted compliments on her nonexistent wedding plans.
"Tell us," one of the investors’ wives cooed, leaning forward eagerly. "How did you two meet?"
Valeria froze. They hadn’t rehearsed that part.
Alejandro, smooth devil that he was, answered without missing a beat.
"She spilled coffee on me during her interview," he said with a wry smile. "It was love at first stain."
The table erupted in laughter.
Valeria blinked at him, stunned.
Had he just... made a joke? About them?
She found herself smiling — genuinely this time. "He was so grumpy about it, I figured I should stick around to annoy him forever."
More laughter.
Alejandro’s hand squeezed her waist briefly, and for one wild heartbeat, she almost believed the act they were putting on.
Almost.
11:30 a.m. – The Photoshoot
The photoshoot for Business Elite was staged outside, in the hotel’s lush garden courtyard.
The photographer barked cheerful instructions as they posed.
"Closer together! Yes, like that — Alejandro, look at her like she’s your whole world!"
Valeria snorted under her breath. "You might have to act, Herrera."
His hand found hers naturally, threading their fingers together.
When she glanced up at him, her breath caught.
He wasn’t acting.
His gaze was molten, full of something raw and unguarded that made her chest ache.
The photographer clicked furiously, oblivious.
"You’re good at pretending," she whispered.
Alejandro’s thumb brushed the inside of her wrist. "Who says I’m pretending?"
Valeria’s heart slammed against her ribs.
Before she could respond, the photographer called, "Now, a forehead kiss!"
Valeria stiffened.
Alejandro, ever the professional, leaned down and pressed a kiss against her temple — a whisper of a touch, barely there.
But it wrecked her.
She squeezed her eyes shut, overwhelmed by how right it felt, how wrong it was to want more.
12:30 p.m. – Aftermath
Back at the penthouse, Valeria practically sprinted for her room, desperate to shake off the tangled mess of feelings.
But Alejandro wasn’t done.
He caught her wrist gently, turning her to face him.
"We’re good at this," he said softly. "Too good."
Valeria’s throat tightened. "It's just... practice."
"Is it?" His voice was low, rough.
She didn’t know who moved first, but suddenly they were inches apart, breathing the same charged air.
Their lips hovered — so close — until Valeria jerked back like she’d been burned.
"I need...space," she stammered.
Alejandro’s jaw clenched. He stepped aside, letting her flee without another word.
Behind her, the silence pulsed with everything unspoken.
- Writer
