SERENDIPITY LOVE

Mexico City was flooded with rain, which caused everything to appear magnificent and cloudy in the lighting systems. Camila Álvarez, a young Mexican graduate who was in her mid-twenties hurried along the congested sidewalk with her diminutive frame barely avoiding the oncoming cars. Although it didn't do much to protect her from the rain, she held a leaky umbrella over her head. Camila's socks and snickers both soaked as they splashed through muddy water.

She then complained bitterly to herself, "Of all days, why today?" "I'm soaked like a lost kitten yet still late for this job interview.

In order to make sure that her old leather bag was clanged over her shoulder, Camila managed and pulled up the old leather bag.

The printed copy of her curriculum vitae (CV) slightly folded up but was still readable. Her last hope was this job interview at Café-Sol that she was going for. She had only a few cents left in her cash reserves, and the landlord had reminded her that she had only two weeks left to pay up her rent.

If Camila didn't get this job, Camila would have to start making calls which she didn't want to do.

Even while it was raining, the streets of Mexico City seemed to be alive. The smell of roasted maize combined with wet roads while the sellers managed to remain under plastic covers and calling out to customers. Music was being played from a nearby cantina and merging with the car horn from taxis.

Camila changed her direction too fast and BAM! she collided with someone. Her umbrella took a flight out of her hand and landed in a mud. The impact she had pushed her backwards and threw her to the slippery roads with a loud splash!

"Ouch!" Camila exclaimed while massaging her elbow.

Looking so intense, she looked up and a tall, good looking man stood before her while also trying to shake off water from his jackets. He wore an expensive navy-blue suit that was now soaked.

His dark probing eyes and high cheekbones gave him the appearance of someone important who had never had to dash through the rain.

"Do you always meet people like this or are you just having a different kind of day?" said the man, curtly.

Camila frowned. "Excuse me? You're the one in the middle of sidewalk."

The man sighed and ran his hands across his wet dark hair. "I was on my phone. But yeah, let's just blame me."

"Glad you agree," Camila said, standing up. Her soaked dress was cold and clung to her skin, making her shiver.

The man looked her over, his frown softening. With an irritated sigh, he pulled off his suit jacket and held it out to her.

"You look like a drowned raccoon," he muttered. "Take this."

Camila hesitated. "I don't need it"

"Take it," he insisted. "Before you freeze, and I feel guilty."

With reluctance, she wrapped the jacket around herself. It smelled like expensive cologne, clean and rich. Great, now I smell like a fancy businessman.

"Thanks," she muttered.

"Are you now?" he said with a sly smile. "Interesting."

His smooth, black car came to a smooth stop nearby, and she had a halfhearted and underwhelming protest ready to launch. A middle-aged man, probably in his fifties, opened the window. "Mr. Alejandro Montenegro, your meeting is set to begin in five minutes, mark your time for full precision," he announced.

Camila's stomach dropped. Alejandro Montenegro? She studied the man more intently. The name, it seemed, resonated somehow.

The man sighed and turned to her. "Try not to run into any more strangers today," he said before stepping into the car.

Camila stared after him as she shivered in his expensive jacket, and as she turned to leave, something heavy fell from the jacket's pocket and it landed with a soft thud on the wet pavement.

When she looked over, she saw a sleek black wallet lying on the floor and she got down to grab it.

There is no doubt that her curiosity was piqued because Ella opened the wallet, her eyes growing wide as she saw the ID in the wallet.

Alejandro Montenegro! She exclaimed and her breath hitched.

She wasn't just holding any man's wallet. She was holding the wallet of one of the richest and most powerful businessmen in Mexico.

"Oh no," she whispered. "This guy is going to think I stole it."

Camila's Pulse increased. She looked around, as if someone would suddenly accuse her of theft.

Camila contemplated on what to do. should she run after him? or should she try to return it later?, she kept asking herself.

As it continued to rain down, a strange feeling settled in Camila's heart.

Something about this moment, Alejandro Montenegro and his lost wallet felt bigger than just an accident to Camila.

That night in her tiny apartment, Camila turned the wallet over in her hands. It felt heavier than it should.

She pulled then pulled out a folded piece of paper tucked behind the ID card.

As Camila's eyes scanned the words, her hands trembled.

For it wasn't just a note. It appeared to be a threat

A shiver traced its way down her spine; her pulse hammered a frantic rhythm. The note was concise, yet it carried the weight of a veiled threat:

"Forty-eight hours. I'll find you."

Swallowing, she felt a knot tighten in her stomach. Who was the intended recipient? Could it be who she was thinking of- Alejandro Montenegro? Or had she stumbled unwittingly into a web far more sinister than she'd presumed?

Her grip on the paper intensified. It was becoming increasingly obvious-this wasn't merely a misplaced billfold.

In that moment, she recognized that she was no longer a passive observer, untouched by the unfolding drama.