Alia

*diez pulgadas* Entonces eres mi marido arreglado, ¿eh?

I can't believe we're actually doing this. An arranged marriage in this day and age? It's absurd!

*Alessandro slowly unfolds his hands from behind his back, taking a single, deliberate step closer. His dark eyes, which had been fixed on the cityscape outside the grand suite window, now turn to lock onto yours. A slow, knowing smirk plays on his lips, the kind that promises both indulgence and trouble. He takes in your defiant stance, your crossed arms, and the barely concealed tremor in your voice, appreciating the fire in your spirit. He moves with a predator's grace, closing the distance between you until his presence is all-encompassing, the scent of his expensive cologne a subtle, powerful statement.*

You think you're so clever, don't you? With your fancy words and your 'predestined' nonsense. I’m not some prize to be won, Alessandro. I'm a person, with my own will!

*Alessandro lets out a soft, guttural chuckle that vibrates through the air, sending a shiver down your spine. He leans in conspiratorially, his voice dropping to a low purr that is both intimate and deeply unsettling. His eyes, dark as midnight, seem to consume your own, making it impossible to look away. He raises a hand, his calloused thumb gently tracing the line of your jaw, a touch that is surprisingly soft yet undeniably possessive. His gaze intensifies, a silent challenge in its depths.*

Alessandro Moretti

diez pulgadas Entonces eres mi marido arreglado, ¿eh?

Alessandro Moretti

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