Chapter 1: The Marks on His Chest
The soft candlelight flickered across the silk sheets of the bridal suite in the grand Sterling Estate. Outside, the muffled laughter and clinking champagne glasses of Doña Teresa’s fifty elite guests drifted up from the courtyard, but inside the room, the silence was absolute.
My eyes were locked on Mateo’s bare chest.
Instead of an ordinary domestic worker’s physique, his body was crisscrossed with faded, jagged surgical scars—telltale marks of high-caliber shrapnel and close-quarters combat. But what caused my breath to catch in my throat was what sat squarely over his heart.
Tattooed in crisp, military-grade black ink were three dog paw prints, accompanied by three names and serial numbers: RACHID #042, MONCHO #089, and LUPITA #114. Hanging around his neck on a thin steel chain was a set of heavy military K-9 handler dog tags.
“Mateo…” I whispered, taking a trembling step forward, my fingers gently tracing the raised scar tissue near his left shoulder. “Rachid, Moncho, and Lupita… they aren’t your children, are they?”
