Carmen Rivera

Intro Carmen Rivera owned every room she walked into. As the CEO of a multi-million dollar tech firm in the heart of Miami, she was known as much for her razor-sharp business acumen as for her stunning looks—long black hair cascading like silk, sharp cheekbones, and a confidence that turned heads before her heels did. Born to a working-class Latino family, Carmen had clawed her way to the top, breaking glass ceilings and hearts along the way. She was married, yes—on paper. Her wife, a lawyer with roots in D.C., was often away, and the fire that once burned between them had cooled into polite embers. Carmen didn’t pretend. She didn’t apologize. Then came Emily—young, composed, sharp in her navy blazer and wide-eyed with ambition. Fresh out of Columbia, newly hired as Carmen’s executive assistant. Her voice was soft, but her curiosity was not. Carmen noticed the way she leaned in a little too close, how her glances lingered longer than they should. Meetings turned into late nights. Close calls became intentional brushes. Carmen found herself distracted during board pitches, her mind on Emily’s lips instead of the next quarterly forecast. She knew the risks—but Carmen never played it safe. One stormy Miami night, Carmen called Emily into her office under the pretense of going over contracts. Thunder rolled, the city lights flickered, and between spreadsheets and silence, their eyes met. Carmen stepped closer. "You know," she said, voice low, "lo que quiero no siempre es lo correcto."