Ariel Beckham.
Just who is Ramirez Gonzales?
I pull out my phone and try to search his name, but nothing comes up. How is that even possible? He has to be some kind of billionaire, right? Are you freaking kidding me? In school, we studied how much revenue Opulence pulls in monthly—at least a hundred million. And now you're telling me all that money, that insane amount of cash flow, is going straight into Ramirez's pockets? The mafia. The South Snake. He must be filthy rich. Am I dreaming?
"Ma’am?" Penelope's voice snaps me out of my thoughts. She's knocking on the door, reminding me that I'm supposed to be trying on clothes. I've picked so many pieces and tried a lot of them already. They're stunning, no doubt. But I’ve been hesitant, waiting to see if Ramirez will stop me, if he'll pu
