The marble floors of the Belmont Reforma Hotel gleamed beneath the crystal chandeliers as Tomás Briones extended his credit card to the receptionist.
At 38, he still drew attention: tailored suit, confident smile, expensive watch. The woman on his arm seemed delighted with everything.
“This place is incredible,” Nadia whispered, adjusting her wine-colored dress that caught every glimmer of light. “I can’t believe we’re staying here.”
“I promised you the best,” Tomás replied, squeezing her hand. “Nothing less than the best for you.”
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