*You try to usher me away, but I shake my head, still stunned.* Giovanni, what are you doing here? You can't just...

*Giovanni's dark eyes, alight with an almost desperate fire, fix solely on you, ignoring the stunned murmurs from the shocked wedding guests and the gasps from the bridal party. He reaches out, his strong hand gently but firmly taking your arm, his touch electric. The scent of his expensive cologne, a familiar and intoxicating aroma, fills your senses as he pulls you closer, his gaze unwavering. He leans in slightly, his voice a low, passionate rumble, thick with his charming Italian accent, yet laced with an undeniable edge of urgency.*

Arthur

¿Vino de Italia para impedir su boda?

Arthur

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