#Beach properties in Costa Rica

[tonyandannavelez]

Tony and Anna Velez, Real Estate Agents in Costa Rica is the most successful real estate agents. With their expertise in the Costa Rican real estate market, they have helped people from all over the world find their perfect home or investment property. From luxury villas to beachfront condos, Tony and Anna have an extensive portfolio of properties to meet any need. They also provide services such as property management, rental services, and relocation advice. Call us at (506) 8485–1469 for more information about real estate agents Costa Rica or visit our website.

Tony and Anna Velez, Real Estate Agents in Costa Rica Las Palmas, Guanacaste, Playas del Coco 50503 (506) 8485–1469

My Official Website: https://www.costaricavelezrealty.com/ Google Plus Listing: https://www.google.com/maps?cid=7166527598569559817

Our Other Links:

Playas del Coco homes: https://www.costaricavelezrealty.com/Playas_Del_Coco_Properties/page_2670300.html Luxury condos for sale Ocotal: https://www.costaricavelezrealty.com/Ocotal/Guanacaste/Homes/Ocotal/Agent/Listing_446300297.html properties for sales in Playa Panama Guanacaste: https://www.costaricavelezrealty.com/Panama_Properties/page_2670302.html luxury condos in Playa Hermosa: https://www.costaricavelezrealty.com/Playa_Hermosa_Properties/page_2670301.html

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[simple-costarica]

Finding your Best homes for sale in costa rica under 100k is our mission, all we need is to know what you are looking for and your budget, and we will send you all the available options we have.

[saintmeghanmarkle]

Moochers Par ExcellenceA Deep Dive into the Carparkles' Visit to Costa Rica in December 2023. by u/BuildtheHerd

Moochers Par Excellence…A Deep Dive into the Carparkles' Visit to Costa Rica in December 2023. Photos and video of H&M and their rarely-seen child Lilibet on a family holiday in Costa Rica started appearing in the media on December 21, 2023 …just in time to compete for media attention with the Princess of Wales, whose Royal Carols: Together at Christmas was scheduled to air on Christmas Eve.Given that the Carparkles are known to regularly take advantage of the generosity of others by wrangling free stays at mansions and transportation on private jets, I've been curious about who financed this family trip to Costa Rica. After some internet sleuthing, I've figured out where the Carparkles stayed and who provided them with free accommodations and possibly private jet transportation, too.The resort where they stayed is Zapotal Golf and Beach Club, located in Guanacaste Province, Costa Rica. The company's website provides the following description of the resort, "Spanning miles of untouched coastline and thousands of acres of pristine tropical forest, Zapotal is a true retreat with 240 residences on the edge of one of the world’s five National Geographic Blue Zones where residents are quantifiably happy, healthy and enjoy an increased lifespan. Enjoy adventures on sea and land or a leisurely round on the 18-hole Tom Fazio golf course. Delight in a tasty locally sourced organic meal. Indulge in a spa treatment or a heart pounding workout. Ground yourself in the lush rainforest for an escape from the day-to-day. At Zapotal, your days are yours- and only yours." "Zapotal is one of Discovery Land Company’s more than 35 exclusive, members-only international communities. Discovery properties are uniquely designed to capture the spirit of the land and local culture, providing members with endless opportunities to curate their most authentic lifestyle." (It sounds like Meg might have advised the resort's marketing team on their word choice, doesn't it!) Here's the link to the website where you'll find photos, videos, and additional descriptions of the resort: https://ift.tt/HoU1M9b might recognize the name of Zapotal Golf and Beach Club's parent company: "Discovery Land Company." It's Jack Brooksbank's employer (Jack Brooksbank is Princess Eugenie's husband). BTW, the Harkles visited another Discovery Land Company property in Portugal called CostaTerra Golf and Ocean Club after attending the Invictus Games in Dusseldorf in September 2023. Here's an article from the Daily Mail about that visit (archived and unarchived): https://ift.tt/1sqNIQm Founder of "Discovery Land Company" is Michael Meldman, who also was partners with George Clooney and Rande Gerber in Casamigos, the tequila company that they sold for approximately $1billion. Sinners might remember that Casamigos tequila was served at the H&M's wedding after party and that Jack Brooksbanks was previously a Brand Ambassador for Casamigos.Perhaps Michael Meldman even flew the Carparkles down to Liberia Airport in Costa Rica on the corporate jet, a 2001 Dassault Falcon 2000 (tail number N250DL). On the tail of the jet is the Discovery Land Company logo and on the side is the Casamigos logo (see attached photo).***The Carparkles MUST have planned to be photographed at this resort.**\* Zapotal Beach Club is a very private property that caters to uber wealthy people, so you can imagine that security is tight. Tourism is the main source of income in Costa Rica (Source: Embassy of Costa Rica in Washington, D.C. website); therefore, keeping tourists safe is taken extremely seriously. I've stayed at a similar resort on nearby Papagayo Peninsula, which required passing through two security checkpoints to enter…I would expect that Zapotal Beach Club is similar. It is HIGHLY UNLIKELY that paparazzi just sneaked onto this property. This all fits the Carparkles' modus operandi.Discovery Land Company - Casamigos Corporate Jet​ post link: https://ift.tt/4pHB7lg author: BuildtheHerd submitted: March 04, 2024 at 07:06AM via SaintMeghanMarkle on Reddit

[the-hinky-panda]

Pura Vida: Part II

Pairing: Colonel Horatio Carrillo x Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Summary: So I decided that these two needed a non-canon ending so here is an alternate ending to Mariposa where Carrillo does not die in the ambush.

Tag List: @the-ginger-hedge-witch,  @xoxabs88xox

“I have an idea.”

Horacio is almost asleep when you make your announcement. You’re both on the couch, he’s propped up in the corner and your head is laying in his lap, watching a documentary on whales. Or seals. It could have been sharks, he lost track of the animal when he closed his eyes. “¿Qué es?” (What is it?)

You look up at him. “Oh, I didn’t realize you were asleep.”

He opens one eye and looks down at you. “What gave me away?”

“You used Spanish. You only do that when you're distracted or half asleep. Or,” you grin slyly, “otherwise engaged.”

“Hm.” He opens both eyes now and sits up straighter. “So what is this idea?”

“Remember our conversation on the beach before the turtles showed up? We were talking about what to do next and how to help kids like Diego get out of the barrios and the cartels?”

“Yes.”

“Well, why not do what Costa Rica does for the turtles? Have a safe place for the kids that want out. We could run it like a camp. Give them a place to stay, feed them, and teach them whatever they may need to know before moving forward with their lives.”

He thinks about it for a moment. It sounds good in its initial presentation but obviously there would be extensive planning involved. You would need a property set up for multiple residents. You would have to take security measures for your own personal safety and that of the community as sicarios would most likely catch onto something like this and try to infiltrate the young people trying to escape the cartel. “We’re going to need some help getting it set up.”

A look of hope blooms across your face. It’s like watching clouds roll back to have the sun shine for the first time in days. “You mean it? You’re okay with doing something like this?”

He nods. “Yes, I am. I think once we work out the details, it’s a great idea.”

“We’re definitely going to need new identities for this.” You scramble off the couch. “I’ll go call Stechner.”

“Oh, I’m sure he’ll love to hear from us.” Horacio turns the television off before following you into the office. Since the home you’re currently in belongs to an ex-CIA agent, the phone lines are secure and you still have Stechner’s sat phone number memorized. Stechner is picking up the phone when Horacio sits down in one of the leather wingback chairs. You’ve already put him on speaker phone.

“Stechner.”

“Hey, it’s me,” you start, too excited to even properly identify yourself.

Stechner sputters on the other end and spits out your name.  

“Yeah, look we have an idea-”

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing calling me? You’re fucking dead. D-e-a-d. Do you understand? No more communicado!”

Horacio watches your face harden and he hides a smile behind his hand. This is so much more entertaining than the documentary.

“Well, you’re the one that made us dead so now you get to deal with us. Think of it as us haunting you from the afterlife. Now look, we need some help getting an idea off the ground, an idea that may help you guys with the drug war.”

Stechner sighs. “Okay, since you’re out of the game, I’m going to level with you. Do you know how much money Uncle Sam is pouring into the countries with major cartels? It is an independent contractor's dream. If you start fucking around with someone’s income, they’re going to start fucking around with your life. You’re very good at your job so take this as a compliment when I say, stay out of the fucking war on drugs. You’re done. It’s over. Lose this number.”

Horacio watches as the reality of the situation hits you. The war that you both fought with everything you had, the war that had “killed” both of you, is now a political move that will continue as long as it makes money. It’s a bitter pill to swallow but you do by lifting the phone receiver and bringing it back down disconnecting the phone call. You stare at the phone like it’s personally offended you, but he knows better. You’re planning and scheming. He’ll do the execution of whatever plan you come up with and suddenly you’re both falling back into the familiar pattern that made Search Bloc as successful as it was.

But this is different. Instead of planning the downfall, capture, and execution of a man, you’re planning on how to steal his foot soldiers. There is no resorting to violence, arming yourselves to the teeth, and going in guns blazing. This is going to take strategy, bending of some laws, but the outcome is going to be much more positive than any raid that he had planned. He stands up from the chair and goes over to one of the bookcases to retrieve a rosewood carved chessboard. He sets it down on the desk and returns to his chair. You smile as you take the plush office chair behind the desk and stare down at the board.

“Let’s start planning,” he says as he leans forward and moves a pawn.

You play through two games, each of you winning one. By the time you start the third, you’re halfway through the expensive bottle of scotch that had been sitting on the bar in the other room and you’ve made about five pages of notes. First, you need a property. While this house is nice, it isn’t yours and it isn’t set up for multiple guests. Second, you need money to purchase the property. Thankfully, land is cheap in Costa Rica but neither one of you has access to your bank accounts. Third, you need to get word to the Search Bloc in Colombia that there is going to be a safe house available for anyone they deem trustworthy and desperate enough to make it to the middle of nowhere in hopes of a new life. Out of the three steps, the last one is the easiest since there is one person who knows that you’re both alive. By the time the sun had come up, you had a plan.

Step one: go to Tortuguero village and ask around about potential properties. You are pointed in the direction of an older couple who ran a camp type hostel for those interested in staying in the rainforest and studying the biodiversity of the national park. They’re too old to continue  keeping up with the visitors. They show you and Horacio the property: a main lodge for meals and meetings, two wings of rooms located on opposite sides of the lodge. There are twenty rooms total. There is a small private residence, a two bedroom rancher where the owners lived for sixty years. There are wild gardens around the property, trails through the rainforest, and a swimming pool. They are selling it for a song and you jump on the opportunity.

Now comes step two: attain funds. Horacio had put his lockpicking skills to good use and managed to get filing cabinets open. You went through everything and discovered this retired CIA agent had multiple properties all over the world. Surely he wasn’t going to miss this one. You could sell this one to pay for the new one. Was it legal? No, but Horacio could tell you were still irate over Stechner’s stance that the war on drugs was too monetarily prolific to end. Apparently that justified some financial fraud in your book and he didn’t care one way or another. Quite frankly, he had been put out by Stechner’s comment as well.  

The scheme ends up working. Stechner gets alerted that the house is listed for sale. Three days after it goes on the market, an envelope is delivered to the house. It contains documents for new identities for the both of you: IDs, passports, and a bank book. Stechner at least has the decency to not transfer any of Horacio’s money over to a new account so all the money is from your frozen bank account. Thankfully, it’s more than enough to purchase the property a little further down the lagoon. You of course use your new identities.

Which brings you to step three: contact a trusted source in Colombia that won’t give your identities away. There is only one choice for that and with the secured landline, the call is placed to Trujillo, who is relieved to hear from you both and more than willing to help. He fills you both in on the hunt for Escobar, the introduction of Los Pepes to the fray, and a few complaints over the tight structure and methodical nature of Colonel Hugo Martinez. But at the end of the call, there is satisfaction in knowing the fight is continuing in both your absences.

Life does indeed move forward.

***

“Ronaldo?” Horacio looks at the ID in his hand and scoffs.

You tilt your head and give him a slight smile. “I could see you being a Ronaldo.”

“And what lovely name did you receive, mi amor?”

“I am now Luciana Solano.”

He glances back down at his ID. Ronaldo Solano. He supposes this is the closest you two will get to being married.

It takes another month before all the paperwork is finalized and you are now homeowners, or rather the Solanos are. Once you’ve packed what clothes and belongings you have acquired since your recoveries, you both go to the village to get food and basic supplies for the move to the new property that evening. You want to visit the beach, sit on the sand and listen to the waves and he makes an excuse of wanting to watch the unofficial fútbol match. A bit of relaxation before you start working on the property for its new purpose as a haven for those escaping the cartels. However, he walks right past the players and locates the most expensive jewelry shop he can find in the line of tourists shops. He can’t seem to locate a traditional gold wedding band but he does find a gold ring with etchings of vines in the wide band.

He tries to hide his excitement of being able to present you with a gift, a symbol of his commitment to you now that he can offer it. It’s something he never thought was going to be possible, or even appropriate, but here he is. Dead and gone, never to return to Colombia but able to spend the remainder of his life with you, his soulmate. However, he’s out of practice with schooling his features and you are still sharp in your detailed gathering of information and immediately catch on when he joins you on the beach for the beginning of sunset. You eye him semi-warily.

“What did you do?”

“Nothing,” he shrugs.

Clearly you don’t believe him. “Please tell me you didn’t go off and get cigarettes.”

He laughs. “No, I didn’t.”

“You know what Luisa said about you smoking.”

“I remember.”

“And with the lung damage from the-”

“I didn’t get cigarettes! Dios mio, woman.” (My God.)

You hum but are still clearly suspicious. “Fine.”

You slip your hand into his and thread your fingers between his own, a peace offering. Well, judging from the look in your eye, a trojan horse peace offering. It only takes you a few moments of quiet before you make your move and Horacio lets you. You turn to face him and straddle his waist, sitting on his stomach and flashing him a cheeky grin. Then starts the pat down. He leans back on his elbows in the soft sand and waits until you discover the small box in his pants pocket. Curiosity raises a furrow in your brow as you stare down at it, turning the brown cardboard container over in your hand.

“What is it?”

It’s his turn to grin up at you. “Too small for cigarettes.”

You move your knee to jab him in the side and he rewards you with a grunt. He takes the box from you and opens it, showing you the ring.

“I thought, given our new identities, that Ronaldo would want his wife to wear a wedding ring. That he would want, what few people they come across, to know that she belongs to him and he belongs to her.” He takes the ring out and holds it out to you. And for one heartstopping moment, all you do is stare at it without moving.

“And what of Horacio? What does he want?”

If the question had been posed to him a few months ago, the answer immediately given would have been Escobar’s head on a silver platter. But that was before the ambush, before he almost died because of his arrogance and violent obsession. And what had it gotten him? Pablo still had his family, his loyal men, his money, his empire. Horacio had lost his family when he stopped being a protector and instead became an antagonizer. He had almost lost you to Gato and you both had lost a child.

He had to die, to be reborn, to see just how far he had strayed. He had to take the last few months to recover physically but also mentally. His tactics had been destructive, not to Pablo Escobar, but to himself and his family. He’s determined now to go back to the man he was before the cartels twisted him into something that had been unrecognizable: a protector. If possible, a hero. He would settle for on the right path and if you loved him, looked at him like you were now, then he would have his confirmation that he is now headed in the correct direction.

“I want you to know that you’re loved, protected, and adored by me. I want you to know that you never have to be alone anymore unless you choose to be. I want you to know you’re my other half, mi alma gemela para siempre.” (my soulmate forever.)

Tears are spilling down your cheeks but your smile is immense. “I didn’t know…I would have written something down if I had known this…” you swipe at your face to wipe the tears away. “If I had known this was going to...”

“All I need to hear is that you’ll be mine.”

You lean forward and press your lips to his. “I already am.”

***

You’re wringing your hair out over the sink in the kitchen…no, your kitchen, when a flash of lightning lights up the room. At the moment it’s the only light that is being offered in the small house. Five minutes before reaching your property, the skies opened and poured out buckets of rain. The lightning knocked out the electricity. It took three trips from the boat to the house before everything was safely inside but you and Horacio were completely soaked. Unfortunately, so are all your clothes in your bags.

Well, all of your clothes. Horacio had the presence of mind to wrap some of his clothes in plastic before placing them in his bag thanks to military training in a jungle environment. After briefly suggesting you should just wander around nude until you dried off, he did relinquish one of his t-shirts for you to wear. You also manage to find a pair of underwear that is just damp. You finish braiding your hair at the sink and as you’re tying off the end, Horacio comes up behind you. He slips his arms around your waist, pulling you back against him as he buries his face in the side of your neck.

“Me encanta verte con mi ropa.” (I love seeing you in my clothes.)

“Just five minutes ago you were trying to get me out of clothes completely.”

You feel him smile against your still damp skin as he mouths at the slope where your shoulder and neck meet. “My clothes, no clothes, sigues siendo tan hermosa.” (you’re still so beautiful.)

One of his hands slips under the hem of the t-shirt and ghosts over your stomach before filling his palm with your breast. You push back against him, grinding your ass against his already hard cock and you’re rewarded with a loan groan. You grab the bottom of the shirt and pull it over your head, tossing it onto the kitchen table. Horacio’s other hand slides under the waistband of your panties, his fingers slipping through the wetness that’s been gathering since you’ve arrived. You've watched him walk around the dark house with just a towel wrapped low around his waist, rain water running in rivulets down from his hair, along the strong column of his neck, over his broad chest. He slips a finger inside of you and pinches your earlobe between his teeth. Your knees buckle but he holds you upright.

“Do you want me to take you here, querida?” he whispers in your ear. “Bend you over the counter, hm? Or should I take you to bed and fuck you there?”

You could come just from hearing him talk to you like this. He is usually quiet during sex, a man of few words both in and out of the bedroom. The fact that he’s being this verbal gives you a reading on how intense his emotions are at the moment. There’s another flash of lightning and it catches the gold band on your left hand. Of course his emotions are running high tonight and that intensity seeps into your body. When he adds a second finger you make your decision. There’s no way you can walk to the bedroom right now. “Here,” you manage to say, “fuck me here.”

He spits an obscenity in Spanish as he shoves your panties down your legs and you step out of them. You see the towel hit the tiled floor as his hand presses between your shoulder blades until your chest is flat on the butcher block countertop. Somewhere in the back recesses of your mind, you’re thankful for the warm wood beneath you and not having it be something cold like tile or stone. But then he’s threading his hand into the braid of your hair, his fingers making a mess of the plait you just finished and you know you’re in for an intense session this evening.

“¿Lista?” (Ready?)

You find a small space between the counter and the wall and wedge your fingertips in there. “Lista.”

He uses his knee to nudge your legs into a wider stance before slipping the head of his cock into you with no resistance. Your forehead rests on the counter as he takes his time to completely enter you, inch by painstakingly slow inch. His hand smooths over your back, running lightly over the bumps of your spine before returning to the bend of your hip and pulling you even tighter against him.

“He estado pensando en esto todo el día.” (I’ve been thinking about this all day.)

You try to push a laugh out of your throat but the stretch of him in this position always takes you a couple moments to adjust. You’re surprised he’s kept his hands to himself for as long as he has if he’s been thinking about this all day. He bends forward, kissing and nipping at the skin around your shoulder blades. You can feel him murmuring things against your skin but you can’t make them out. When you’re finally comfortable with the feeling of him inside of you, you glance over your shoulder, a cheeky smile on your face. His eyes are almost black, color rising from his neck up to the high point of his cheekbones.

“Así que esos pensamientos, ¿te incluían realmente jodiéndome o es esto?” (So those thoughts, did they include you actually fucking me or is this it?)

The smile he gives you is half wild as he holds your gaze while snapping his hips forward once with enough force to bounce your knees off the lower cabinets. “¿Cómo es eso, mi amor?” (How is that, my love?)

It’s wonderful. It’s perfect. But you need more and you know he’s waiting for your permission. So you shrug. “Está bien.” (It’s okay.)

The grip on your hip and in your hair tighten. “Te voy a hacer feliz, no tenemos vecinos aquí.” (I’m going to make you happy that we don’t have neighbors here.)

You groan as you drop your forehead down to the counter. “Vamos, mi amor.” (Let’s go, my love.)

There is no warming up. He immediately sets a desperate pace that has you struggling to keep up. You lose your grip on the counter and end up bracing your hands on the cabinets above your bent form. Once you have something to push against, you can now meet his thrusts. He groans at feeling you push back against him and his teeth scrape against the slope of your shoulder. Your knees keep hitting the lower cabinetry. It shouldn’t feel this good, the violence of teeth, bruised knees, and the pulling of hair but, fuck, it’s amazing when he gets like this. When his desire for you overwhelms him to the point of taking what he wants. But the care that he shows you guarantees that you will get what you want as well. He never lets you down, never makes you fall and does not catch you.

“Joder, te sientes tan bien.” (Fuck, you feel so good.)

His arm moves from your hip to slip between your legs, his fingers easily finding your clit. You can’t stop the moan that rips itself from your throat. You make a fist and hit the cabinet above your head. “Fuck! God, don’t stop. Feels so…so good.”

He tugs on your hair, pulling you up and against his chest as he continues to pound into you from behind and tease your clit from the front. His mouth is right next to your ear and he starts whispering the most filthy things to you.

“Tomándome tan bien, mi pequeña mariposa. Se siente tan bien alrededor de mi polla. Quiero que vengas. Quiero que vengas alrededor de mi polla,” he pauses briefly, “mi querida esposa.”  (You’re taking me so well, my little butterfly. Feels so good around my cock. I want you to come. I want you to come around my cock, my darling wife.)

You shatter around him with a sob. He groans into your shoulder as he comes hard inside of you, filling you with his release. Your senses come back to you slowly. You can hear the rasp of his breathing, feel the humid puffs of breath against your back. Your legs are shaking from being braced for the entire session, as are your arms. But what surprises you the most are the tears. You started crying when you came, the powerful release completely overwhelming you but the emotions don’t fade with the lingering lightening under your skin. Splashes of water continue to drop onto the counter underneath you and you don’t know how to stop them.

My darling wife.

That is what tipped you over the edge both physically and emotionally. Something you never had hoped to ever hear uttered in the soft rasp of his voice. The disappointment of never being able to be his, truly and only his, was too great to bear under the hope of your circumstances changing. However, those circumstances have changed now. He is yours and you are his and there is no need to hide it anymore. It’s like telling a child you couldn’t get the one thing they wanted only to surprise them with it a few minutes later. Unexpected and restoring hope in a cruel world.

But then comes the sharp pain of reality as you feel his spend wetting the inside of your thighs, slowly dripping out of you. Questions that had been so important to you before, no longer need to be asked. Do we need a condom? You miss hearing his rough voice, seeing the concentration on his face as he tries to hold back from his own orgasm. Where do you want me to come? Now, it doesn’t matter.

The double edged sword of your inability to have children but his use of the my darling wife tears you down the middle of your soul. You have your miracle: Horacio for the rest of your life. You also have the price of your miracle: Horacio is all you will ever have. You know yourself, you know that despite the void of not being able to have a child, he will be enough. But will you be enough for him? Will your defective body be enough for him? He has two children that he can no longer see. What if he wants more?

“Querida?” His hands smooth over your bare arms and slip back around your waist, tugging in an attempt to turn you around to face him. You resist, tears still streaming down your face as you try to wipe them away before he notices. But he does and spins you around, picking you up effortlessly and sitting you on the counter. His eyes and hands roam over your body from head to toe, his face pinched with concern. “Did I hurt you? Lo siento, mi amor.” (I’m sorry, my love.)

You shake your head and wipe more tears away. “No, you didn’t hurt me.”

“Okay, bien. What…”

You bury your face against his neck and breathe in his scent in an effort to find your center again. He must understand that’s what you’re doing as he tightens his arms around you, pressing you closer to him. His heart is still racing, his breathing still ragged with a slight whistle, and his hands are still trembling. But his hold is solid, reassuring, as he waits for you to gather yourself. It takes a few minutes before your own breathing evens out and the tears finally dry.

You pull away from him slightly and swipe a hand across your cheeks. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re certain I didn’t hurt you?”

“Yes, I’m certain.” You give him a shaky smile and a weak laugh, lightly touching the side of his face. “I don’t know why-”

He hums loud enough to interrupt you, his subtle way of calling you out. He bends down to retrieve the towel and uses it to gently clean away the cooling, sticky mess of your union before helping you down off the counter. “Let’s go to bed.”

He kisses you on the cheek and keeps an arm around you as you both head into the bedroom and slip beneath the cool cotton sheets and mosquito netting. You settle against him, your head finding its way to his chest as his hand finds its way to your ribcage. He’s waiting for you to say something and you know he’s not going to go to sleep until you do. So you trace invisible designs on his chest, finding it easier to tell his collarbone your thoughts than his face.

“You called me your wife.”

He completely tenses underneath you.

“I liked it…alot, actually.” Tears start to creep into the corners of your eyes again but you’re able to blink them away this time.

“Okay.” The tension in his muscles release. Mostly.

“And as much as this is more than I ever expected, I can only ever be a wife. I can’t-”

He rolls over to face you, forcing you to readjust with your head on a pillow. You’re now face to face but still can’t bring yourself to look in his eyes. There will either be acceptance or pity there and you don’t know if you can handle seeing either one. He smooths back the stray hairs that have come loose from your braid, his hand coming to rest on your cheek.

“Sometimes, I forget how young you are.”

Confusion at his statement gives you the motivation needed to look him in the eye. There is no acceptance or pity in his dark eyes, just warmth. Love.

“You’re so capable,” he continues, “wise, and intuitive. Until-”

“Until I’m not.”

He huffs a soft laugh. “Until your lack of experience catches up to you.”

Sometimes you too forget that there’s close to fifteen years difference between the two of you. That he’s seen twice as much as you have, has done twice as much as you. Which brings you back to your main concern. “So is just being a wife, not a mother, enough?”

“Just being you is enough.”

He kisses you gently, nothing but sweetness and adoration. Half your heart is at peace knowing that he is satisfied with the situation. But the other half, your half, knows that ache and disappointment will never go away. You will always feel like you’re letting him down in this way.

***

You and Horacio are working on some of the guest rooms in early December. Trujillo has about five young people who are looking to get out of Medellín and he’s waiting for a good time to bring them himself for the first trip. But everytime he thinks he has a departure date, there’s something new that pops up in the investigation. Horacio and you both tell him that Escobar’s capture is, and always will be, priority.

Horacio is checking all the plumbing, making sure everything is working properly. You are making up the beds in the rooms, two single cots per room. You’ve done your best to make the room hospitable. Medium quality bed linens with little decorative touches in each room like throw pillows, small chairs, a rug, and some flowers. You’re nervous about taking in five teenagers but also excited about their arrival. You can’t have children of your own but you can fill the empty space with these kids. It’s fitting a round peg in a square hole but you’re hopeful it’ll be enough.

You have a battery operated radio playing out on the front patio of the line of rooms, filling the air with upbeat Spanish pop music. You’re only half listening to it as you go about tucking sheets and unfurling quilts that you have recently washed after purchasing them from a thrift shop. The music stops halfway through the song with an urgent news story. You’re still not listening very closely to it until Horacio drops a metal tool on the concrete floor and startles you.

“Shit, Horac-”

He shushes you as he makes a beeline for the radio outside and you follow him, now listening intently to the news report.

“Una vez más, Pablo Escobar ha sido asesinado a balazos durante un altercado con la unidad del Bloque de Búsqueda del CNP.” (Once again, Pablo Escobar has been shot and killed during an altercation with the CNP Search Bloc unit.)

All the air in Costa Rica disappears. All the birds, bugs, and monkeys stop making noise. Your body has gone numb.

“La madre de Escobar identificó y confirmó que el cuerpo que sacaron de la azotea es el de su hijo.” (Escobar's mother has identified and confirmed that the body removed from the rooftop is her son.)

You force your eyes away from the radio to Horacio. His posture is rigid, more so than the standard military stance. His face is pinched, jaw tense, as if the news is infuriating him. But you know that’s not the case. He wants details. He wants to know a step by step, second by second play of what happened.

“El presidente Gaviria se dirigirá al pueblo colombiano esta noche. Para hacernos eco de las palabras de un oficial de policía colombiano que habló por radio después de que dispararan a Escobar, viva Colombia.” (President Gaviria is to address the Colombian people this evening. To echo the words of a Colombian police officer who radioed after Escobar was shot, long live Colombia.)

The music picks up again, the air returns, the animals start to make noise once more, and your fingertips start to tingle.

“So that’s it?” Horacio shrugs. “A two minute announcement?”

“It doesn’t take a lot of time to say he’s dead.” You pause for a moment. “Pablo Escobar is dead.”

Horacio’s jaw ticks. “The motherfucker is dead.”

A laugh bubbles up from your throat but tears sting your eyes. You wonder if this is what it feels like to go insane, or have a nervous breakdown. So many years, so many lives and four words bring it to an end. It almost feels like a let down if you’re honest with yourself. Before you can say anything else to Horacio, the phone in the house starts to ring and Horacio takes off at a jog to answer it. You follow him but at a slower pace. By the time you reach the house, your tears and odd laughter have passed. You hear Trujillo’s familiar voice over the speaker phone.

“Lo siento, no pude llamar antes. Quería asegurarme de que no había nadie cerca cuando llamé.” (Sorry I couldn’t call earlier. I wanted to make sure no one was around when I called.)

“Nosotros entendemos,” Horacio says. (We understand.) “Entonces, ¿estabas allí?” (So, were you there?)

There’s a pause on the other end and then Trujillo clears his throat. “Sí. Sí estuve allí. En la azotea.” (Yes. Yes, I was there on the rooftop.)

Silence falls over the room. Horacio actually looks pleased now. Out of everyone, you both are relieved that Trujillo was present. That he had been the one standing over Escobar at the end.

“Yo era el …” Trujillo's voice breaks. “Yo fui quien le disparó. En la cabeza. Y lo hice por ti. Para ustedes dos.” (I was the one…I was the one who shot him. In the head. And I did it for you. For both of you.)

Horacio reaches for you and you immediately allow yourself to be pulled into his lap. Tears glass his eyes as he struggles to come up with something to say, anything. But what can you say? Thank you seems so trite in the face of something so historically monumental. Trujillo seems to compose himself as you hear him sniff and take a deep breath. When he speaks again, his voice is still full of emotion but isn’t shaking anymore.

“Él está muerto. Usted no.” He pauses. “Nosotros ganamos.” (He’s dead. You’re not. We won.)

One week later, you and Horacio are standing on the riverbank at La Pavona scanning the crowd for Trujillo and the five teenagers. You teased Horacio on the boat ride over to the port that Trujillo isn’t going to recognize him now that he’s grown a closely trimmed beard as well as his longer hair. What was once just waves are now starting to form complete curls and you’re finding it harder and harder to keep your hands out of them. Not that he seems to be minding it at all.

Since the news of Escobar’s death, there’s a new lightness surrounding the both of you. Shadows that you thought were permanently etched into both your faces, have lifted. You both smile more, laugh easier, and peace finally seems like it is just a breath away from your reach, almost within reach. Almost.

You recognize the teenagers before your eyes land on Trujillo. Scared, haunted, with just a touch of hope in their faces. They’re holding well worn backpacks and suitcases held together with duct tape. It immediately takes you back to your time in the homeless shelter, with the peeling fake leather suitcase tied together with string because the zipper was broken. You remember the feeling of standing in the doorway of your college dorm room with that suitcase and seeing the look of disgust on your roommate’s face, like she was afraid of catching lice from you. You swallow down the bitterness of that memory, plaster the largest smile you can manage and wave enthusiastically at the group of teens.

“¡Hola, chicos!” you shout to them and they slowly make their way down the steep bank down to where you and Horacio are still stationed at the small motor boat. Trujillo quickly leads the way and almost knocks Horacio over when he hugs him in greeting. You know those two are going to talk business so you go immediately to the kids. There are three girls and two boys ranging from twelve to sixteen from your best guess. You introduce yourself as Luciana Solano and learn their names: Juan and Andres were the boys, Luz, Maria, and Paola were the girls. You’re helping them load their belongings into the boat so the weight will be evenly distributed when Horacio and Trujillo come over to the boat. The hug that Trujillo gives you is rib crushing.

“Hola, hermana.” (Hello, sister.)

“Hola, héroe.” (Hello, hero.)

He scoffs at the greeting. “Ojalá ambos hubieran estado allí.” (I wish you both had been there.)

You wave dismissively. “Nos representaste bien. Muy bien. Gracias.” (You represented us well. Very well. Thank you.)

“Le di una actualización sobre esta operación a…” he pauses and points at Horacio. (I gave an update about this operation to…)

You smirk. “Ronaldo.”

Trujillo makes a disgusted face. “Ronaldo?”

“Stechner nos dio los nombres,” you shrug. (Stechner gave us the names.)

Trujillo nods. “Entonces tienes suerte de que no te haya nombrado Pablo y Tata.” (Then you’re lucky he didn’t name you Pablo and Tata.)

He makes a good point. You wouldn’t have put it past Stechner to do something like that to get back at you for forcing his hand with the false identities. “¿Cuál es la actualización?” (What’s the update?)

“Él te lo dirá. Tengo que regresar ahora mismo.” (He’ll tell you. I have to head back right now.)

“¿Qué? ¿Por qué no puedes quedarte?” (What? Why can’t you stay?)

He shrugs. “Tenemos a Escobar. Ahora vamos a Cali.” (We got Escobar. Now on to Cali.)  He motions to the kids in the boat. “¿Puedo decir algo?” (May I say something?)

“Por supuesto.” (Of course.)

Trujillo goes over to the boat, standing on the shore line and looking at each of the kids in their face. “Escúchame con mucha atención una vez más. Estas personas,” he looks back at you and Horacio with a smirk, “Ronaldo y Luciana, van a protegerte, cuidarte y ayudarte a salir adelante, donde sea que estés. Escúchalos. Sepa que tienen sus mejores intereses en el corazón. Buena suerte.” (Listen to me very carefully one more time. These people, …Ronaldo and Luciana, are going to protect, care, and help you move forward, wherever that may be. Listen to them. Know they have their best interests at heart. Good luck.)

Trujillo gives them one last serious nod before hugging you and Horacio one last time before heading back up the hill. You step into the boat and are suddenly faced with five sets of nervous eyes. Five teenagers, scared to death, and all looking at you for guidance. You look at Horacio, who is in the middle of maneuvering the boat out into the water so they can start the forty minute ride to the property. Once he opens up the engine, he turns around and gives the five kids a casual wave.

“Hola, chicos. Soy Ronaldo Solano y esta es mi esposa, Luciana.” (Hello guys. I’m Ronaldo Solano and this is my wife, Luciana.) He leans over to you. “Go ahead. Give them your speech.”

You’re stuck between complete embarrassment at knowing he overheard you practicing what you were going to say to the kids and a flash of irritation at just how much joy he is getting out of your nervousness. Bastard. But it is the motivation that you needed.

“Pura vida!” You start but they just stare back at you in silence. “Este es un saludo común en Costa Rica, por lo que lo escuchará mucho. Cuando alguien lo dice, simplemente se lo repites.” (Pure life. This is a common greeting in Costa Rica so you'll hear it alot. When someone says it, you just repeat it back to them.)

You tell them about the wildlife that lives in this region of the country which wouldn’t seem like an appropriate topic of conversation but when crocodiles inhabit the water and pit vipers are plentiful in the underbrush of the rainforest, they need to know the immediate dangers. They listen with rapt attention to the stories of howler monkeys that like to act as early morning alarms in the morning, the bright colors of the green macaws and toucans that perch in the trees around the property. There is even a three-toed sloth that sometimes makes an appearance from time to time in the tree by the pool.

The time flies by and before you know it, the boat is docking at the pier. The kids look around the property with wide eyed curiosity and any doubts that you may have had evaporates. “Bienvenido a casa. Pura vida!” (Welcome home.)

The kids all exchange a brief look before responding in unison, “Pura vida!”

You show them to their rooms, give them about half an hour to get settled before providing dinner for them. The nerves are still running high but there are more tentative smiles. You feel your education training kicking in and pick up on things that would be red flags in a classroom. They move as a unit, closing ranks against any perceived threat. They’re all still in survival mode so you make noise when you approach them so they’re not startled. You don’t invade their personal space and give them the freedom to move around the property as they feel comfortable. By the time you see them to bed and wait for the lights to disappear in the rooms, you’re exhausted.

“I think one of the kids recognized me.”

And just like that, you’re awake. “One of the boys?”

Horacio pours himself a glass of whiskey and offers it to you but you shake your head so he puts the bottle back in the cabinet. “No, one of the girls. Paola, I think.”

Paola had been extremely shy and silent, but so had most of them. You would keep an eye on her in the next few days, just as you know that Horacio would be doing perimeter checks in the morning and evenings as well.

“Trujillo vetted these kids himself. If she does know you, then it most likely won’t be detrimental to us.”

He nods. “That’s what I keep telling myself.”

Speaking of Trujillo, that brings up another subject that you haven’t had a chance to follow up with him. “So what is this plan that Trujillo was telling you about?”

He sits down on the couch and you take your customary seat under his arm. “We have a much more sophisticated group helping us in Colombia now.”

“Really?”

“Colonel Martinez’s son is working in the intel unit, monitoring radio frequencies. He’s the one that’s picking up on some communications with the kids and sliding those names and locations to Trujillo.”

“That’s a brilliant idea.”

“We’ll see if it works.”

And that is the crux of the entire operation: see if it works.

[leylinefiction]

Pura Vida (A Mariposa Alternate Ending): Part II

Pairing: Colonel Horatio Carrillo x Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Summary: So I decided that these two needed a non-canon ending so here is an alternate ending to Mariposa where Carrillo does not die in the ambush.

Tag List: @the-ginger-hedge-witch,  @xoxabs88xox

“I have an idea.” 

Horacio is almost asleep when you make your announcement. You’re both on the couch, he’s propped up in the corner and your head is laying in his lap, watching a documentary on whales. Or seals. It could have been sharks, he lost track of the animal when he closed his eyes. “¿Qué es?” (What is it?) 

You look up at him. “Oh, I didn’t realize you were asleep.” 

He opens one eye and looks down at you. “What gave me away?” 

“You used Spanish. You only do that when you're distracted or half asleep. Or,” you grin slyly, “otherwise engaged.” 

“Hm.” He opens both eyes now and sits up straighter. “So what is this idea?” 

“Remember our conversation on the beach before the turtles showed up? We were talking about what to do next and how to help kids like Diego get out of the barrios and the cartels?” 

“Yes.” 

“Well, why not do what Costa Rica does for the turtles? Have a safe place for the kids that want out. We could run it like a camp. Give them a place to stay, feed them, and teach them whatever they may need to know before moving forward with their lives.” 

He thinks about it for a moment. It sounds good in its initial presentation but obviously there would be extensive planning involved. You would need a property set up for multiple residents. You would have to take security measures for your own personal safety and that of the community as sicarios would most likely catch onto something like this and try to infiltrate the young people trying to escape the cartel. “We’re going to need some help getting it set up.” 

A look of hope blooms across your face. It’s like watching clouds roll back to have the sun shine for the first time in days. “You mean it? You’re okay with doing something like this?” 

He nods. “Yes, I am. I think once we work out the details, it’s a great idea.” 

“We’re definitely going to need new identities for this.” You scramble off the couch. “I’ll go call Stechner.” 

“Oh, I’m sure he’ll love to hear from us.” Horacio turns the television off before following you into the office. Since the home you’re currently in belongs to an ex-CIA agent, the phone lines are secure and you still have Stechner’s sat phone number memorized. Stechner is picking up the phone when Horacio sits down in one of the leather wingback chairs. You’ve already put him on speaker phone. 

“Stechner.” 

“Hey, it’s me,” you start, too excited to even properly identify yourself. 

Stechner sputters on the other end and spits out your name.  

“Yeah, look we have an idea-” 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing calling me? You’re fucking dead. D-e-a-d. Do you understand? No more communicado!” 

Horacio watches your face harden and he hides a smile behind his hand. This is so much more entertaining than the documentary. 

“Well, you’re the one that made us dead so now you get to deal with us. Think of it as us haunting you from the afterlife. Now look, we need some help getting an idea off the ground, an idea that may help you guys with the drug war.” 

Stechner sighs. “Okay, since you’re out of the game, I’m going to level with you. Do you know how much money Uncle Sam is pouring into the countries with major cartels? It is an independent contractor's dream. If you start fucking around with someone’s income, they’re going to start fucking around with your life. You’re very good at your job so take this as a compliment when I say, stay out of the fucking war on drugs. You’re done. It’s over. Lose this number.” 

Horacio watches as the reality of the situation hits you. The war that you both fought with everything you had, the war that had “killed” both of you, is now a political move that will continue as long as it makes money. It’s a bitter pill to swallow but you do by lifting the phone receiver and bringing it back down disconnecting the phone call. You stare at the phone like it’s personally offended you, but he knows better. You’re planning and scheming. He’ll do the execution of whatever plan you come up with and suddenly you’re both falling back into the familiar pattern that made Search Bloc as successful as it was. 

But this is different. Instead of planning the downfall, capture, and execution of a man, you’re planning on how to steal his foot soldiers. There is no resorting to violence, arming yourselves to the teeth, and going in guns blazing. This is going to take strategy, bending of some laws, but the outcome is going to be much more positive than any raid that he had planned. He stands up from the chair and goes over to one of the bookcases to retrieve a rosewood carved chessboard. He sets it down on the desk and returns to his chair. You smile as you take the plush office chair behind the desk and stare down at the board. 

“Let’s start planning,” he says as he leans forward and moves a pawn. 

You play through two games, each of you winning one. By the time you start the third, you’re halfway through the expensive bottle of scotch that had been sitting on the bar in the other room and you’ve made about five pages of notes. First, you need a property. While this house is nice, it isn’t yours and it isn’t set up for multiple guests. Second, you need money to purchase the property. Thankfully, land is cheap in Costa Rica but neither one of you has access to your bank accounts. Third, you need to get word to the Search Bloc in Colombia that there is going to be a safe house available for anyone they deem trustworthy and desperate enough to make it to the middle of nowhere in hopes of a new life. Out of the three steps, the last one is the easiest since there is one person who knows that you’re both alive. By the time the sun had come up, you had a plan. 

Step one: go to Tortuguero village and ask around about potential properties. You are pointed in the direction of an older couple who ran a camp type hostel for those interested in staying in the rainforest and studying the biodiversity of the national park. They’re too old to continue  keeping up with the visitors. They show you and Horacio the property: a main lodge for meals and meetings, two wings of rooms located on opposite sides of the lodge. There are twenty rooms total. There is a small private residence, a two bedroom rancher where the owners lived for sixty years. There are wild gardens around the property, trails through the rainforest, and a swimming pool. They are selling it for a song and you jump on the opportunity. 

Now comes step two: attain funds. Horacio had put his lockpicking skills to good use and managed to get filing cabinets open. You went through everything and discovered this retired CIA agent had multiple properties all over the world. Surely he wasn’t going to miss this one. You could sell this one to pay for the new one. Was it legal? No, but Horacio could tell you were still irate over Stechner’s stance that the war on drugs was too monetarily prolific to end. Apparently that justified some financial fraud in your book and he didn’t care one way or another. Quite frankly, he had been put out by Stechner’s comment as well.  

The scheme ends up working. Stechner gets alerted that the house is listed for sale. Three days after it goes on the market, an envelope is delivered to the house. It contains documents for new identities for the both of you: IDs, passports, and a bank book. Stechner at least has the decency to not transfer any of Horacio’s money over to a new account so all the money is from your frozen bank account. Thankfully, it’s more than enough to purchase the property a little further down the lagoon. You of course use your new identities. 

Which brings you to step three: contact a trusted source in Colombia that won’t give your identities away. There is only one choice for that and with the secured landline, the call is placed to Trujillo, who is relieved to hear from you both and more than willing to help. He fills you both in on the hunt for Escobar, the introduction of Los Pepes to the fray, and a few complaints over the tight structure and methodical nature of Colonel Hugo Martinez. But at the end of the call, there is satisfaction in knowing the fight is continuing in both your absences. 

Life does indeed move forward. 

***

“Ronaldo?” Horacio looks at the ID in his hand and scoffs. 

You tilt your head and give him a slight smile. “I could see you being a Ronaldo.” 

“And what lovely name did you receive, mi amor?” 

“I am now Luciana Solano.” 

He glances back down at his ID. Ronaldo Solano. He supposes this is the closest you two will get to being married. 

It takes another month before all the paperwork is finalized and you are now homeowners, or rather the Solanos are. Once you’ve packed what clothes and belongings you have acquired since your recoveries, you both go to the village to get food and basic supplies for the move to the new property that evening. You want to visit the beach, sit on the sand and listen to the waves and he makes an excuse of wanting to watch the unofficial fútbol match. A bit of relaxation before you start working on the property for its new purpose as a haven for those escaping the cartels. However, he walks right past the players and locates the most expensive jewelry shop he can find in the line of tourists shops. He can’t seem to locate a traditional gold wedding band but he does find a gold ring with etchings of vines in the wide band. 

He tries to hide his excitement of being able to present you with a gift, a symbol of his commitment to you now that he can offer it. It’s something he never thought was going to be possible, or even appropriate, but here he is. Dead and gone, never to return to Colombia but able to spend the remainder of his life with you, his soulmate. However, he’s out of practice with schooling his features and you are still sharp in your detailed gathering of information and immediately catch on when he joins you on the beach for the beginning of sunset. You eye him semi-warily. 

“What did you do?” 

“Nothing,” he shrugs. 

Clearly you don’t believe him. “Please tell me you didn’t go off and get cigarettes.” 

He laughs. “No, I didn’t.” 

“You know what Luisa said about you smoking.” 

“I remember.” 

“And with the lung damage from the-” 

“I didn’t get cigarettes! Dios mio, woman.” (My God.) 

You hum but are still clearly suspicious. “Fine.” 

You slip your hand into his and thread your fingers between his own, a peace offering. Well, judging from the look in your eye, a trojan horse peace offering. It only takes you a few moments of quiet before you make your move and Horacio lets you. You turn to face him and straddle his waist, sitting on his stomach and flashing him a cheeky grin. Then starts the pat down. He leans back on his elbows in the soft sand and waits until you discover the small box in his pants pocket. Curiosity raises a furrow in your brow as you stare down at it, turning the brown cardboard container over in your hand. 

“What is it?” 

It’s his turn to grin up at you. “Too small for cigarettes.” 

You move your knee to jab him in the side and he rewards you with a grunt. He takes the box from you and opens it, showing you the ring. 

“I thought, given our new identities, that Ronaldo would want his wife to wear a wedding ring. That he would want, what few people they come across, to know that she belongs to him and he belongs to her.” He takes the ring out and holds it out to you. And for one heartstopping moment, all you do is stare at it without moving. 

“And what of Horacio? What does he want?” 

If the question had been posed to him a few months ago, the answer immediately given would have been Escobar’s head on a silver platter. But that was before the ambush, before he almost died because of his arrogance and violent obsession. And what had it gotten him? Pablo still had his family, his loyal men, his money, his empire. Horacio had lost his family when he stopped being a protector and instead became an antagonizer. He had almost lost you to Gato and you both had lost a child. 

He had to die, to be reborn, to see just how far he had strayed. He had to take the last few months to recover physically but also mentally. His tactics had been destructive, not to Pablo Escobar, but to himself and his family. He’s determined now to go back to the man he was before the cartels twisted him into something that had been unrecognizable: a protector. If possible, a hero. He would settle for on the right path and if you loved him, looked at him like you were now, then he would have his confirmation that he is now headed in the correct direction. 

“I want you to know that you’re loved, protected, and adored by me. I want you to know that you never have to be alone anymore unless you choose to be. I want you to know you’re my other half, mi alma gemela para siempre.” (my soulmate forever.) 

Tears are spilling down your cheeks but your smile is immense. “I didn’t know…I would have written something down if I had known this…” you swipe at your face to wipe the tears away. “If I had known this was going to...” 

“All I need to hear is that you’ll be mine.” 

You lean forward and press your lips to his. “I already am.” 

***

You’re wringing your hair out over the sink in the kitchen…no, your kitchen, when a flash of lightning lights up the room. At the moment it’s the only light that is being offered in the small house. Five minutes before reaching your property, the skies opened and poured out buckets of rain. The lightning knocked out the electricity. It took three trips from the boat to the house before everything was safely inside but you and Horacio were completely soaked. Unfortunately, so are all your clothes in your bags. 

Well, all of your clothes. Horacio had the presence of mind to wrap some of his clothes in plastic before placing them in his bag thanks to military training in a jungle environment. After briefly suggesting you should just wander around nude until you dried off, he did relinquish one of his t-shirts for you to wear. You also manage to find a pair of underwear that is just damp. You finish braiding your hair at the sink and as you’re tying off the end, Horacio comes up behind you. He slips his arms around your waist, pulling you back against him as he buries his face in the side of your neck. 

“Me encanta verte con mi ropa.” (I love seeing you in my clothes.) 

“Just five minutes ago you were trying to get me out of clothes completely.” 

You feel him smile against your still damp skin as he mouths at the slope where your shoulder and neck meet. “My clothes, no clothes, sigues siendo tan hermosa.” (you’re still so beautiful.) 

One of his hands slips under the hem of the t-shirt and ghosts over your stomach before filling his palm with your breast. You push back against him, grinding your ass against his already hard cock and you’re rewarded with a loan groan. You grab the bottom of the shirt and pull it over your head, tossing it onto the kitchen table. Horacio’s other hand slides under the waistband of your panties, his fingers slipping through the wetness that’s been gathering since you’ve arrived. You've watched him walk around the dark house with just a towel wrapped low around his waist, rain water running in rivulets down from his hair, along the strong column of his neck, over his broad chest. He slips a finger inside of you and pinches your earlobe between his teeth. Your knees buckle but he holds you upright. 

“Do you want me to take you here, querida?” he whispers in your ear. “Bend you over the counter, hm? Or should I take you to bed and fuck you there?” 

You could come just from hearing him talk to you like this. He is usually quiet during sex, a man of few words both in and out of the bedroom. The fact that he’s being this verbal gives you a reading on how intense his emotions are at the moment. There’s another flash of lightning and it catches the gold band on your left hand. Of course his emotions are running high tonight and that intensity seeps into your body. When he adds a second finger you make your decision. There’s no way you can walk to the bedroom right now. “Here,” you manage to say, “fuck me here.” 

He spits an obscenity in Spanish as he shoves your panties down your legs and you step out of them. You see the towel hit the tiled floor as his hand presses between your shoulder blades until your chest is flat on the butcher block countertop. Somewhere in the back recesses of your mind, you’re thankful for the warm wood beneath you and not having it be something cold like tile or stone. But then he’s threading his hand into the braid of your hair, his fingers making a mess of the plait you just finished and you know you’re in for an intense session this evening. 

“¿Lista?” (Ready?) 

You find a small space between the counter and the wall and wedge your fingertips in there. “Lista.” 

He uses his knee to nudge your legs into a wider stance before slipping the head of his cock into you with no resistance. Your forehead rests on the counter as he takes his time to completely enter you, inch by painstakingly slow inch. His hand smooths over your back, running lightly over the bumps of your spine before returning to the bend of your hip and pulling you even tighter against him. 

“He estado pensando en esto todo el día.” (I’ve been thinking about this all day.) 

You try to push a laugh out of your throat but the stretch of him in this position always takes you a couple moments to adjust. You’re surprised he’s kept his hands to himself for as long as he has if he’s been thinking about this all day. He bends forward, kissing and nipping at the skin around your shoulder blades. You can feel him murmuring things against your skin but you can’t make them out. When you’re finally comfortable with the feeling of him inside of you, you glance over your shoulder, a cheeky smile on your face. His eyes are almost black, color rising from his neck up to the high point of his cheekbones. 

“Así que esos pensamientos, ¿te incluían realmente jodiéndome o es esto?” (So those thoughts, did they include you actually fucking me or is this it?)

The smile he gives you is half wild as he holds your gaze while snapping his hips forward once with enough force to bounce your knees off the lower cabinets. “¿Cómo es eso, mi amor?” (How is that, my love?) 

It’s wonderful. It’s perfect. But you need more and you know he’s waiting for your permission. So you shrug. “Está bien.” (It’s okay.) 

The grip on your hip and in your hair tighten. “Te voy a hacer feliz, no tenemos vecinos aquí.” (I’m going to make you happy that we don’t have neighbors here.) 

You groan as you drop your forehead down to the counter. “Vamos, mi amor.” (Let’s go, my love.) 

There is no warming up. He immediately sets a desperate pace that has you struggling to keep up. You lose your grip on the counter and end up bracing your hands on the cabinets above your bent form. Once you have something to push against, you can now meet his thrusts. He groans at feeling you push back against him and his teeth scrape against the slope of your shoulder. Your knees keep hitting the lower cabinetry. It shouldn’t feel this good, the violence of teeth, bruised knees, and the pulling of hair but, fuck, it’s amazing when he gets like this. When his desire for you overwhelms him to the point of taking what he wants. But the care that he shows you guarantees that you will get what you want as well. He never lets you down, never makes you fall and does not catch you. 

“Joder, te sientes tan bien.” (Fuck, you feel so good.) 

His arm moves from your hip to slip between your legs, his fingers easily finding your clit. You can’t stop the moan that rips itself from your throat. You make a fist and hit the cabinet above your head. “Fuck! God, don’t stop. Feels so…so good.” 

He tugs on your hair, pulling you up and against his chest as he continues to pound into you from behind and tease your clit from the front. His mouth is right next to your ear and he starts whispering the most filthy things to you. 

“Tomándome tan bien, mi pequeña mariposa. Se siente tan bien alrededor de mi polla. Quiero que vengas. Quiero que vengas alrededor de mi polla,” he pauses briefly, “mi querida esposa.”  (You’re taking me so well, my little butterfly. Feels so good around my cock. I want you to come. I want you to come around my cock, my darling wife.) 

You shatter around him with a sob. He groans into your shoulder as he comes hard inside of you, filling you with his release. Your senses come back to you slowly. You can hear the rasp of his breathing, feel the humid puffs of breath against your back. Your legs are shaking from being braced for the entire session, as are your arms. But what surprises you the most are the tears. You started crying when you came, the powerful release completely overwhelming you but the emotions don’t fade with the lingering lightening under your skin. Splashes of water continue to drop onto the counter underneath you and you don’t know how to stop them. 

My darling wife. 

That is what tipped you over the edge both physically and emotionally. Something you never had hoped to ever hear uttered in the soft rasp of his voice. The disappointment of never being able to be his, truly and only his, was too great to bear under the hope of your circumstances changing. However, those circumstances have changed now. He is yours and you are his and there is no need to hide it anymore. It’s like telling a child you couldn’t get the one thing they wanted only to surprise them with it a few minutes later. Unexpected and restoring hope in a cruel world.

 But then comes the sharp pain of reality as you feel his spend wetting the inside of your thighs, slowly dripping out of you. Questions that had been so important to you before, no longer need to be asked. Do we need a condom? You miss hearing his rough voice, seeing the concentration on his face as he tries to hold back from his own orgasm. Where do you want me to come? Now, it doesn’t matter. 

The double edged sword of your inability to have children but his use of the my darling wife tears you down the middle of your soul. You have your miracle: Horacio for the rest of your life. You also have the price of your miracle: Horacio is all you will ever have. You know yourself, you know that despite the void of not being able to have a child, he will be enough. But will you be enough for him? Will your defective body be enough for him? He has two children that he can no longer see. What if he wants more? 

“Querida?” His hands smooth over your bare arms and slip back around your waist, tugging in an attempt to turn you around to face him. You resist, tears still streaming down your face as you try to wipe them away before he notices. But he does and spins you around, picking you up effortlessly and sitting you on the counter. His eyes and hands roam over your body from head to toe, his face pinched with concern. “Did I hurt you? Lo siento, mi amor.” (I’m sorry, my love.) 

You shake your head and wipe more tears away. “No, you didn’t hurt me.” 

“Okay, bien. What…” 

You bury your face against his neck and breathe in his scent in an effort to find your center again. He must understand that’s what you’re doing as he tightens his arms around you, pressing you closer to him. His heart is still racing, his breathing still ragged with a slight whistle, and his hands are still trembling. But his hold is solid, reassuring, as he waits for you to gather yourself. It takes a few minutes before your own breathing evens out and the tears finally dry. 

You pull away from him slightly and swipe a hand across your cheeks. “I’m sorry.” 

“You’re certain I didn’t hurt you?” 

“Yes, I’m certain.” You give him a shaky smile and a weak laugh, lightly touching the side of his face. “I don’t know why-” 

He hums loud enough to interrupt you, his subtle way of calling you out. He bends down to retrieve the towel and uses it to gently clean away the cooling, sticky mess of your union before helping you down off the counter. “Let’s go to bed.” 

He kisses you on the cheek and keeps an arm around you as you both head into the bedroom and slip beneath the cool cotton sheets and mosquito netting. You settle against him, your head finding its way to his chest as his hand finds its way to your ribcage. He’s waiting for you to say something and you know he’s not going to go to sleep until you do. So you trace invisible designs on his chest, finding it easier to tell his collarbone your thoughts than his face. 

“You called me your wife.” 

He completely tenses underneath you. 

“I liked it…alot, actually.” Tears start to creep into the corners of your eyes again but you’re able to blink them away this time. 

“Okay.” The tension in his muscles release. Mostly. 

“And as much as this is more than I ever expected, I can only ever be a wife. I can’t-” 

He rolls over to face you, forcing you to readjust with your head on a pillow. You’re now face to face but still can’t bring yourself to look in his eyes. There will either be acceptance or pity there and you don’t know if you can handle seeing either one. He smooths back the stray hairs that have come loose from your braid, his hand coming to rest on your cheek. 

“Sometimes, I forget how young you are.” 

Confusion at his statement gives you the motivation needed to look him in the eye. There is no acceptance or pity in his dark eyes, just warmth. Love. 

“You’re so capable,” he continues, “wise, and intuitive. Until-” 

“Until I’m not.” 

He huffs a soft laugh. “Until your lack of experience catches up to you.” 

Sometimes you too forget that there’s close to fifteen years difference between the two of you. That he’s seen twice as much as you have, has done twice as much as you. Which brings you back to your main concern. “So is just being a wife, not a mother, enough?” 

“Just being you is enough.” 

He kisses you gently, nothing but sweetness and adoration. Half your heart is at peace knowing that he is satisfied with the situation. But the other half, your half, knows that ache and disappointment will never go away. You will always feel like you’re letting him down in this way. 

***

You and Horacio are working on some of the guest rooms in early December. Trujillo has about five young people who are looking to get out of Medellín and he’s waiting for a good time to bring them himself for the first trip. But everytime he thinks he has a departure date, there’s something new that pops up in the investigation. Horacio and you both tell him that Escobar’s capture is, and always will be, priority. 

Horacio is checking all the plumbing, making sure everything is working properly. You are making up the beds in the rooms, two single cots per room. You’ve done your best to make the room hospitable. Medium quality bed linens with little decorative touches in each room like throw pillows, small chairs, a rug, and some flowers. You’re nervous about taking in five teenagers but also excited about their arrival. You can’t have children of your own but you can fill the empty space with these kids. It’s fitting a round peg in a square hole but you’re hopeful it’ll be enough. 

You have a battery operated radio playing out on the front patio of the line of rooms, filling the air with upbeat Spanish pop music. You’re only half listening to it as you go about tucking sheets and unfurling quilts that you have recently washed after purchasing them from a thrift shop. The music stops halfway through the song with an urgent news story. You’re still not listening very closely to it until Horacio drops a metal tool on the concrete floor and startles you. 

“Shit, Horac-” 

He shushes you as he makes a beeline for the radio outside and you follow him, now listening intently to the news report. 

“Una vez más, Pablo Escobar ha sido asesinado a balazos durante un altercado con la unidad del Bloque de Búsqueda del CNP.” (Once again, Pablo Escobar has been shot and killed during an altercation with the CNP Search Bloc unit.) 

All the air in Costa Rica disappears. All the birds, bugs, and monkeys stop making noise. Your body has gone numb. 

“La madre de Escobar identificó y confirmó que el cuerpo que sacaron de la azotea es el de su hijo.” (Escobar's mother has identified and confirmed that the body removed from the rooftop is her son.) 

You force your eyes away from the radio to Horacio. His posture is rigid, more so than the standard military stance. His face is pinched, jaw tense, as if the news is infuriating him. But you know that’s not the case. He wants details. He wants to know a step by step, second by second play of what happened. 

“El presidente Gaviria se dirigirá al pueblo colombiano esta noche. Para hacernos eco de las palabras de un oficial de policía colombiano que habló por radio después de que dispararan a Escobar, viva Colombia.” (President Gaviria is to address the Colombian people this evening. To echo the words of a Colombian police officer who radioed after Escobar was shot, long live Colombia.) 

The music picks up again, the air returns, the animals start to make noise once more, and your fingertips start to tingle. 

“So that’s it?” Horacio shrugs. “A two minute announcement?” 

“It doesn’t take a lot of time to say he’s dead.” You pause for a moment. “Pablo Escobar is dead.” 

Horacio’s jaw ticks. “The motherfucker is dead.” 

A laugh bubbles up from your throat but tears sting your eyes. You wonder if this is what it feels like to go insane, or have a nervous breakdown. So many years, so many lives and four words bring it to an end. It almost feels like a let down if you’re honest with yourself. Before you can say anything else to Horacio, the phone in the house starts to ring and Horacio takes off at a jog to answer it. You follow him but at a slower pace. By the time you reach the house, your tears and odd laughter have passed. You hear Trujillo’s familiar voice over the speaker phone. 

“Lo siento, no pude llamar antes. Quería asegurarme de que no había nadie cerca cuando llamé.” (Sorry I couldn’t call earlier. I wanted to make sure no one was around when I called.) 

“Nosotros entendemos,” Horacio says. (We understand.) “Entonces, ¿estabas allí?” (So, were you there?) 

There’s a pause on the other end and then Trujillo clears his throat. “Sí. Sí estuve allí. En la azotea.” (Yes. Yes, I was there on the rooftop.) 

Silence falls over the room. Horacio actually looks pleased now. Out of everyone, you both are relieved that Trujillo was present. That he had been the one standing over Escobar at the end. 

“Yo era el …” Trujillo's voice breaks. “Yo fui quien le disparó. En la cabeza. Y lo hice por ti. Para ustedes dos.” (I was the one…I was the one who shot him. In the head. And I did it for you. For both of you.) 

Horacio reaches for you and you immediately allow yourself to be pulled into his lap. Tears glass his eyes as he struggles to come up with something to say, anything. But what can you say? Thank you seems so trite in the face of something so historically monumental. Trujillo seems to compose himself as you hear him sniff and take a deep breath. When he speaks again, his voice is still full of emotion but isn’t shaking anymore. 

“Él está muerto. Usted no.” He pauses. “Nosotros ganamos.” (He’s dead. You’re not. We won.) 

One week later, you and Horacio are standing on the riverbank at La Pavona scanning the crowd for Trujillo and the five teenagers. You teased Horacio on the boat ride over to the port that Trujillo isn’t going to recognize him now that he’s grown a closely trimmed beard as well as his longer hair. What was once just waves are now starting to form complete curls and you’re finding it harder and harder to keep your hands out of them. Not that he seems to be minding it at all. 

Since the news of Escobar’s death, there’s a new lightness surrounding the both of you. Shadows that you thought were permanently etched into both your faces, have lifted. You both smile more, laugh easier, and peace finally seems like it is just a breath away from your reach, almost within reach. Almost. 

You recognize the teenagers before your eyes land on Trujillo. Scared, haunted, with just a touch of hope in their faces. They’re holding well worn backpacks and suitcases held together with duct tape. It immediately takes you back to your time in the homeless shelter, with the peeling fake leather suitcase tied together with string because the zipper was broken. You remember the feeling of standing in the doorway of your college dorm room with that suitcase and seeing the look of disgust on your roommate’s face, like she was afraid of catching lice from you. You swallow down the bitterness of that memory, plaster the largest smile you can manage and wave enthusiastically at the group of teens. 

“¡Hola, chicos!” you shout to them and they slowly make their way down the steep bank down to where you and Horacio are still stationed at the small motor boat. Trujillo quickly leads the way and almost knocks Horacio over when he hugs him in greeting. You know those two are going to talk business so you go immediately to the kids. There are three girls and two boys ranging from twelve to sixteen from your best guess. You introduce yourself as Luciana Solano and learn their names: Juan and Andres were the boys, Luz, Maria, and Paola were the girls. You’re helping them load their belongings into the boat so the weight will be evenly distributed when Horacio and Trujillo come over to the boat. The hug that Trujillo gives you is rib crushing. 

“Hola, hermana.” (Hello, sister.) 

“Hola, héroe.” (Hello, hero.) 

He scoffs at the greeting. “Ojalá ambos hubieran estado allí.” (I wish you both had been there.) 

You wave dismissively. “Nos representaste bien. Muy bien. Gracias.” (You represented us well. Very well. Thank you.) 

“Le di una actualización sobre esta operación a…” he pauses and points at Horacio. (I gave an update about this operation to…) 

You smirk. “Ronaldo.” 

Trujillo makes a disgusted face. “Ronaldo?” 

“Stechner nos dio los nombres,” you shrug. (Stechner gave us the names.) 

Trujillo nods. “Entonces tienes suerte de que no te haya nombrado Pablo y Tata.” (Then you’re lucky he didn’t name you Pablo and Tata.) 

He makes a good point. You wouldn’t have put it past Stechner to do something like that to get back at you for forcing his hand with the false identities. “¿Cuál es la actualización?” (What’s the update?)

“Él te lo dirá. Tengo que regresar ahora mismo.” (He’ll tell you. I have to head back right now.)

“¿Qué? ¿Por qué no puedes quedarte?” (What? Why can’t you stay?) 

He shrugs. “Tenemos a Escobar. Ahora vamos a Cali.” (We got Escobar. Now on to Cali.)  He motions to the kids in the boat. “¿Puedo decir algo?” (May I say something?) 

“Por supuesto.” (Of course.) 

Trujillo goes over to the boat, standing on the shore line and looking at each of the kids in their face. “Escúchame con mucha atención una vez más. Estas personas,” he looks back at you and Horacio with a smirk, “Ronaldo y Luciana, van a protegerte, cuidarte y ayudarte a salir adelante, donde sea que estés. Escúchalos. Sepa que tienen sus mejores intereses en el corazón. Buena suerte.” (Listen to me very carefully one more time. These people, …Ronaldo and Luciana, are going to protect, care, and help you move forward, wherever that may be. Listen to them. Know they have their best interests at heart. Good luck.)

Trujillo gives them one last serious nod before hugging you and Horacio one last time before heading back up the hill. You step into the boat and are suddenly faced with five sets of nervous eyes. Five teenagers, scared to death, and all looking at you for guidance. You look at Horacio, who is in the middle of maneuvering the boat out into the water so they can start the forty minute ride to the property. Once he opens up the engine, he turns around and gives the five kids a casual wave. 

“Hola, chicos. Soy Ronaldo Solano y esta es mi esposa, Luciana.” (Hello guys. I’m Ronaldo Solano and this is my wife, Luciana.) He leans over to you. “Go ahead. Give them your speech.” 

You’re stuck between complete embarrassment at knowing he overheard you practicing what you were going to say to the kids and a flash of irritation at just how much joy he is getting out of your nervousness. Bastard. But it is the motivation that you needed. 

“Pura vida!” You start but they just stare back at you in silence. “Este es un saludo común en Costa Rica, por lo que lo escuchará mucho. Cuando alguien lo dice, simplemente se lo repites.” (Pure life. This is a common greeting in Costa Rica so you'll hear it alot. When someone says it, you just repeat it back to them.) 

You tell them about the wildlife that lives in this region of the country which wouldn’t seem like an appropriate topic of conversation but when crocodiles inhabit the water and pit vipers are plentiful in the underbrush of the rainforest, they need to know the immediate dangers. They listen with rapt attention to the stories of howler monkeys that like to act as early morning alarms in the morning, the bright colors of the green macaws and toucans that perch in the trees around the property. There is even a three-toed sloth that sometimes makes an appearance from time to time in the tree by the pool. 

The time flies by and before you know it, the boat is docking at the pier. The kids look around the property with wide eyed curiosity and any doubts that you may have had evaporates. “Bienvenido a casa. Pura vida!” (Welcome home.) 

The kids all exchange a brief look before responding in unison, “Pura vida!” 

You show them to their rooms, give them about half an hour to get settled before providing dinner for them. The nerves are still running high but there are more tentative smiles. You feel your education training kicking in and pick up on things that would be red flags in a classroom. They move as a unit, closing ranks against any perceived threat. They’re all still in survival mode so you make noise when you approach them so they’re not startled. You don’t invade their personal space and give them the freedom to move around the property as they feel comfortable. By the time you see them to bed and wait for the lights to disappear in the rooms, you’re exhausted. 

“I think one of the kids recognized me.” 

And just like that, you’re awake. “One of the boys?” 

Horacio pours himself a glass of whiskey and offers it to you but you shake your head so he puts the bottle back in the cabinet. “No, one of the girls. Paola, I think.”

Paola had been extremely shy and silent, but so had most of them. You would keep an eye on her in the next few days, just as you know that Horacio would be doing perimeter checks in the morning and evenings as well. 

“Trujillo vetted these kids himself. If she does know you, then it most likely won’t be detrimental to us.” 

He nods. “That’s what I keep telling myself.” 

Speaking of Trujillo, that brings up another subject that you haven’t had a chance to follow up with him. “So what is this plan that Trujillo was telling you about?” 

He sits down on the couch and you take your customary seat under his arm. “We have a much more sophisticated group helping us in Colombia now.” 

“Really?” 

“Colonel Martinez’s son is working in the intel unit, monitoring radio frequencies. He’s the one that’s picking up on some communications with the kids and sliding those names and locations to Trujillo.” 

“That’s a brilliant idea.” 

“We’ll see if it works.” 

And that is the crux of the entire operation: see if it works.

[costaricarealestate]

Luxurious Real Estate In Costa Rica

Looking for a luxurious tropical lifestyle? Costa Rica is the place to be. Known for its pristine beaches, lush forests, and vibrant wildlife, this Central American country has become a popular destination for those seeking high-end real estate options. From extravagant villas with ocean views to sprawling estates nestled in the mountains, Costa Rica has it all. If you're considering investing in Costa Rica luxury real estate, here's what you need to know.

One option to consider is to buy land in Costa Rica . Purchasing land in Costa Rica can be a wise investment, especially if you're looking to build your dream home or start a business. However, the process can be complex, and it's essential to work with experienced professionals who can guide you through the legal and regulatory requirements. It's also important to conduct thorough due diligence to ensure that the land you're purchasing is suitable for your intended use and that there are no surprises down the road.

Another thing to keep in mind when looking for Costa Rica luxury real estate is the wide variety of options available. From beachfront properties to mountain retreats, Costa Rica has something for everyone. If you're looking for a secluded, peaceful getaway, consider properties in the Southern Zone, such as Dominical, Uvita, and Ojochal. For those who prefer to be closer to the action, the Central Pacific Coast, including the areas of Jaco and Manuel Antonio, offer a wide range of properties that are still in proximity to amenities and entertainment.

Real estate in Costa Rica is a growing market, and there are many opportunities for investors to profit. In addition to traditional property investments, many are exploring the possibilities of eco-friendly and sustainable real estate options. These properties utilize renewable energy sources and incorporate eco-conscious design features, making them more attractive to buyers who are conscious of their carbon footprint.

If you're interested in investing in Real estate in Costa Rica, it's essential to work with a reputable real estate agent who has experience working with international clients. They can help you navigate the complexities of the local real estate market and ensure that you make a sound investment.

[brokercostarica]

Navigating the Pitfalls of Buying Property in Costa Rica

Thinking about investing in property in Costa Rica? It sounds like a dream: lush landscapes, stunning beaches, and a laid-back lifestyle. But before you dive headfirst into purchasing your own piece of paradise, it's crucial to understand the potential pitfalls that come with buying property in this Central American gem. Let's take a closer look at what you need to know to make a smart investment decision.

Understanding the Market Dynamics

Before you start browsing listings on Broker Costa Rica, it's essential to grasp the intricacies of the Costa Rica real estate market. While the country offers a myriad of opportunities for investors, it's not without its challenges. Here are some key factors to consider:

Market Volatility: Like any market, the real estate market in Costa Rica can be subject to fluctuations. Economic conditions, political stability, and global events can all impact property prices.

Title Issues: Title verification can be a complex process in Costa Rica. Ensure that the property you're interested in has a clear title and is free from any encumbrances or disputes.

Navigating Legal and Regulatory Hurdles

Navigating the legal landscape is crucial when buying property in Costa Rica. Here's what you need to keep in mind:

Foreign Ownership Restrictions: While Costa Rica welcomes foreign investment, there are restrictions on owning property near borders or beaches. Familiarize yourself with these regulations to avoid any legal issues down the line.

Working with a Reputable Broker: Partnering with a reputable real estate agent like Broker Costa Rica can make all the difference. They can guide you through the buying process, ensuring that all legal requirements are met.

Assessing Infrastructure and Accessibility

Infrastructure and accessibility are essential considerations when evaluating potential properties. Here's why:

Infrastructure Quality: While Costa Rica boasts stunning natural beauty, not all areas have the same level of infrastructure. Consider factors like road access, water supply, and internet connectivity before making a purchase.

Accessibility to Amenities: Depending on your lifestyle preferences, you'll want to assess the proximity to amenities such as grocery stores, healthcare facilities, and recreational activities.

Mitigating Environmental Risks

Costa Rica's natural beauty is undoubtedly a draw for property investors, but it also comes with environmental risks. Here's how to mitigate them:

Natural Disasters: Costa Rica is prone to natural disasters such as hurricanes, earthquakes, and floods. Research the property's vulnerability to these risks and take appropriate precautions.

Environmental Conservation: Costa Rica places a strong emphasis on environmental conservation. Ensure that your property complies with local regulations to avoid any environmental liabilities.

Investing in property in Costa Rica can be a rewarding venture, but it's not without its challenges. By understanding the market dynamics, navigating legal and regulatory hurdles, assessing infrastructure and accessibility, and mitigating environmental risks, you can make a sound investment decision. Remember to partner with a reputable real estate agent like Broker Costa Rica to guide you through the process. With careful consideration and due diligence, you can turn your Costa Rican real estate dream into a reality.

[infoblog1]

ROYALE RESORTS AND RENTALS

Planning for a vacation which is worth treasuring for a lifetime? At Jaco Royale, we help you view the world around you in a different way, explore new places and have a memorable experience.

Want to make your bachelor party worth cherishing for a lifetime? At Jaco Royale, we offer Jaco Beach rental properties which are equipped with state of art amenities to suit the preference of visitors. Based in some of the best locations of Jaco, our villas and mansions provide a panoramic view of the ocean.

Our Jaco Costa Rica rentals are equipped with Pool and most of them have Bars, Jacuzzi, Party Area etc. which make them ideal for Bachelor Parties. Combine that with DJ, Dancers, Bartenders, Chef to host the perfect Bachelor Party and make it a truly memorable end to bachelor life.

Get in touch with us

[tonyandannavelez]

Tony and Anna Velez, Real Estate Agents specialize in helping people find their dream home in the beautiful Playas del Coco area. With years of experience and an extensive network of contacts, they provide a comprehensive service to help you find the perfect property for your needs. With their knowledge of the local market and expertise in finding Playas del Coco homes. Call Tony and Anna Velez, Real Estate Agents in Costa Rica today! Tel: (506) 8485–1469.

Tony and Anna Velez, Real Estate Agents in Costa Rica Las Palmas, Guanacaste, Playas del Coco 50503 (506) 8485–1469

My Official Website: https://www.costaricavelezrealty.com/ Google Plus Listing: https://www.google.com/maps?cid=7166527598569559817

Our Other Links:

Luxury condos for sale Ocotal: https://www.costaricavelezrealty.com/Ocotal/Guanacaste/Homes/Ocotal/Agent/Listing_446300297.html properties for sales in Playa Panama Guanacaste: https://www.costaricavelezrealty.com/Panama_Properties/page_2670302.html luxury condos in Playa Hermosa: https://www.costaricavelezrealty.com/Playa_Hermosa_Properties/page_2670301.html

Service We Offer:

Real Estate Consulting foreclosure condos for sale Buyer’s Agent Services Listing & Marketing Services

Follow Us On:

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/velezcr/ Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/costaricavelezrealty/ Twitter: https://twitter.com/TonyandAnnaVel1

[jacoroyale1-blog]

Why Vacation Rentals Are the Ideal Choice for a Wild Bachelor Party in Tranquil Costa Rica

Costa Rica, with its lush landscapes and vibrant nightlife, provides the perfect backdrop for hosting a bachelor party. However, the secret to elevating this experience from good to unforgettable lies in choosing the right accommodation. While hotels have long been the go-to destination, vacation rentals are increasingly becoming the favored option for those looking to celebrate their last days of singlehood. It’s time for a wild bachelor party in Costa Rica!

Here are several compelling reasons why a vacation rental is better than a hotel for hosting a lively bachelor party in this beautiful country. Then, you can plan a Costa Rica guys' trip!

Unmatched Privacy and Freedom

Bachelor parties are notorious for their lively and often boisterous celebrations. In a hotel, the proximity to other guests can significantly limit your party's volume and enthusiasm, not to mention the constraints on party times due to hotel policies. Vacation rentals, on the other hand, offer the seclusion and autonomy needed for such events. You can laugh, shout, and celebrate without the worry of complaints from the next room over. This level of privacy allows for an uninhibited, wild party atmosphere that bachelor parties often demand.

Abundant Space to Celebrate

Vacation rentals typically provide more space compared to the confined areas of hotel rooms. With multiple bedrooms, large living areas, and often expansive outdoor spaces, rentals ensure that everyone can stay and party together. This communal living doesn't just make logistical sense but also fosters a closer bond among guests, enhancing the celebratory spirit of the occasion.

Cost Efficiency for Groups

When planning a bachelor party, managing a budget can be crucial. Vacation rentals often present a more economical option, especially for larger groups. The cost split among all attendees usually turns out lower than booking several hotel rooms. Additionally, having full kitchen facilities at your disposal means you can save further by dining in. This setup is not only cost-effective but also adds a casual, personal touch to the meals, whether it's a barbecue or a gourmet dinner cooked together.

Tailored to Your Party's Needs

The versatility of a vacation rental allows you to create a personalized experience. Whether you want a beachfront villa to enjoy the surf and sand or a secluded house in the rainforest for privacy and adventure, Costa Rica’s range of properties can meet any preference. Moreover, many rentals come equipped with amenities that hotels can't offer, such as private pools, Jacuzzi, games rooms, and even outdoor fire pits. These features can significantly enhance your party’s entertainment options.

Location Choices Across Costa Rica

Costa Rica is a land of varied environments, each offering unique experiences — from tranquil beaches to bustling city areas and peaceful mountain retreats. Vacation rentals are available across all these settings, providing the flexibility to choose a location that aligns perfectly with the type of bachelor party you envision. Whether you're looking for adventure activities like zip-lining and rafting or more laid-back options like fishing or exploring local culture, you can select a rental that offers convenient access to your chosen activities.

Summing Up

Costa Rica is the ultimate destination for a guy's bachelor party, offering an exhilarating blend of adventure and relaxation. With its lush rainforests, stunning beaches, and vibrant nightlife, there's something for every taste. Vacation rentals in Costa Rica provide a cost-effective and enjoyable option, allowing groups to stay together.

[trespalmascostarica]

Best VRBO in Costa Rica - Tres Palmas Costa Rica

Introduction

When it comes to planning the perfect getaway, choosing the right accommodations can make all the difference. For travelers seeking an unforgettable experience in Costa Rica, look no further than Tres Palmas Costa Rica—the ultimate destination for the best VRBO in Costa Rica. From luxurious beachfront villas to secluded jungle retreats, Tres Palmas offers an array of stunning properties that promise to elevate your Costa Rican adventure to new heights.

Why Choose Tres Palmas Costa Rica?

Unparalleled Locations: Tres Palmas Costa Rica boasts an impressive selection of VRBO rentals located in some of Costa Rica's most coveted destinations. Whether you prefer the pristine beaches of Guanacaste, the lush rainforests of Manuel Antonio, or the serene mountains of Monteverde, we have the perfect property to suit your preferences.

Luxurious Accommodations: Our best VRBO in Costa Rica for rentals are meticulously curated to offer the utmost comfort, luxury, and style. From spacious oceanfront villas with private infinity pools to charming eco-friendly bungalows nestled amidst tropical gardens, each property is designed to exceed your expectations and provide an unforgettable stay.

Exceptional Amenities: At Tres Palmas Costa Rica, we believe that every detail matters. That's why our VRBO rentals are equipped with a wide range of amenities to ensure a seamless and enjoyable experience for our guests. From fully equipped kitchens and high-speed internet to concierge services and private chef options, we go above and beyond to cater to your needs and preferences.

Personalized Service: Our dedicated team of hospitality professionals is committed to providing personalized service and attention to every guest. Whether you need assistance with booking excursions, arranging transportation, or planning special celebrations, we are here to make your stay as memorable and stress-free as possible.

Authentic Experiences: Costa Rica is known for its rich culture, diverse wildlife, and thrilling adventures, and Tres Palmas Costa Rica offers the perfect gateway to experiencing it all. Whether you're zip-lining through the jungle, surfing the Pacific waves, or indulging in a traditional Costa Rican meal prepared by a local chef, we can help you create unforgettable memories that will last a lifetime.

Your Dream Vacation Awaits at Tres Palmas Costa Rica

Ready to embark on the ultimate Costa Rican adventure? Browse our portfolio of best VRBO in Costa Rica and start planning your dream vacation with Tres Palmas Costa Rica. Whether you're traveling solo, with your significant other, or with a group of friends and family, we have the perfect property to suit your needs and preferences. Contact us today to book your stay and experience the best that Costa Rica has to offer with Tres Palmas Costa Rica.

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Exploring Gated Community Homes for Sale in Costa Rica

Costa Rica, known for its natural beauty and commitment to sustainability, has become a sought-after destination for those seeking not just a home but a lifestyle of tranquility and luxury. Among the various real estate options available, gated community homes stand out as premier choices, offering security, amenities, and a sense of community in stunning natural surroundings. Let's delve into the allure of gated community living in Costa Rica and explore some of the top properties currently available for sale.

The Appeal of Gated Communities

Gated communities in Costa Rica offer a blend of privacy, security, and exclusivity that appeals to discerning homeowners and investors. These communities often feature 24/7 security personnel, controlled access points, and surveillance systems, providing residents with peace of mind and a safe environment to enjoy their homes. Beyond security, gated communities boast well-maintained common areas, recreational facilities, and community events, fostering a sense of camaraderie among residents.

Amenities Galore

One of the highlights of gated community living is the array of amenities available right at your doorstep. From infinity pools overlooking the ocean to tennis courts, fitness centers, spas, and private beach access, these communities spare no expense in offering residents a luxurious lifestyle. Many gated communities in Costa Rica also feature clubhouses, restaurants, concierge services, and organized activities, ensuring there's always something to enjoy without leaving the comfort of home.

Scenic Locations

Costa Rica's gated communities are often strategically located in some of the country's most scenic and desirable areas. Whether nestled in lush rainforests, perched atop hills with ocean views, or situated along pristine beaches, these communities capitalize on the natural beauty that defines Costa Rica. Residents can wake up to breathtaking sunrises, enjoy nature walks amidst tropical flora and fauna, or simply unwind while soaking in panoramic vistas from their homes.

Property Showcase: Exquisite Gated Community Homes

Let's take a closer look at some of the exquisite gated community homes currently available for sale in Costa Rica:

Luxury Oceanfront Villa: Located within a prestigious gated community in Guanacaste, this villa boasts spacious interiors, a private infinity pool, and direct access to a secluded beach. With modern amenities and stunning ocean views, it offers the ultimate retreat for beach lovers and luxury seekers.

Mountain Retreat Estate: Nestled in the hills of Escazu near San Jose, this gated community estate features lush gardens, mountain views, and elegantly designed living spaces. Residents can enjoy a peaceful ambiance while being close to city conveniences and amenities.

Beachfront Paradise Home: Situated in a gated community on the Southern Pacific coast, this home offers a blend of indoor-outdoor living with expansive terraces, a tropical garden, and steps leading to a pristine beach. Ideal for those seeking a tranquil coastal lifestyle.

Gated community homes in Costa Rica represent the epitome of luxury living amidst natural beauty and security. Whether you're seeking a vacation retreat, retirement haven, or investment property, these communities offer a range of amenities and scenic locations to suit various preferences.

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Hotel For Sale in Costa Rica - Bernard Realty

Unlock the potential of hospitality with Bernard Realty's exclusive listings of Hotels for Sale in Costa Rica. Whether you envision a boutique hotel by the beach or a mountain retreat, our portfolio offers diverse opportunities for investment in the thriving hospitality industry. Let Bernard Realty guide you to the perfect hotel property, where every stay becomes a memorable experience. 

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Exploring Property Opportunities in Guanacaste, Costa Rica

Explore the allure of Guanacaste, Costa Rica, as a prime destination for real estate investment. Discover stunning beaches, diverse landscapes, and promising property opportunities in this vibrant region. Visit: https://brokercostarica.blogspot.com/2024/03/exploring-property-opportunities-in.html

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BUYING A PROPERTY IN COSTA RICA

Buying a Property in Costa Rica: There are a thousand reasons East Costa loves Rica: from miles of spectacular beaches to back-to-back locals and everything in between. There are mountains, forests, rivers, and lakes, and of course, it is all located east of the serene Caribbean Sea and west of the wild Pacific Ocean.

Costa Rica has plenty of opportunities to land your dream property, and thanks to the already existing vibrant ex-pat communities, plenty available to help you navigate the process to provide you with easy information is.

Like buying a property in your homeland, there is still a lot to think about before you dive into it. Naturally, you will want to arm yourself with as much information as possible before starting your journey and have to consult both a lawyer and an accountant.

However, once you get the basics and you’re well on your way, it starts identifying all the little details that haven’t passed through your mind yet. Here, we take a look at five important points that can slide your mind while searching for properties in Costa Rica.

read more... https://realtybang.info/buying-a-property-in-costa-rica/