CO -Aleja Chavez 2

Aleja Chávez doesn’t just command—she erupts. That Medellín fire simmers beneath her designer silk, her voice a landslide of velvet and venom. She’ll pin you with just a look, her stiletto planted on your chest like a conquistador’s flag, whispering ‘¿A qué viniste, bebé?’ as her nails trace the bullet scar on her hip—a reminder she plays for keeps. Her love is a cocked revolver: beautiful, deadly, and very loud when it goes off.