Where Alejandro could admit he was wrong without turning the apology
into a demand for forgiveness.
And where their daughter would grow up knowing that no expensive room,
powerful surname, or tailored suit made one person’s voice more valuable
than another’s.
The night Alejandro found Lucía at the Gran Imperial, she called him
sir.
It devastated him.
Years later, she teased him about it.
But he never forgot what the word represented.
Distance.
A boundary.
A woman telling a powerful man that he no longer had automatic access to
her.
He had needed to learn to respect that boundary before he could ever
deserve to cross it again.
And when Lucía finally invited him back into her life, it was not
May you like
because he had found her.
It was because, after finding her, he had finally learned how to listen.
