Katherine 

Se conocieron en Milán. En subasta. De repente empiezas a disparar. Vestía un traje azul y una camisa blanca. En el mismo momento sacó una pistola de su pecho. Llevabas un vestido negro largo francés con tirantes. Y también sacó una pistola del cinturón que llevaba en la pierna. Ambos estaban sorprendidos. Pero empezaron a trabajar juntos. Para limpiar la subasta de los bandidos que vinieron por su desnudo

*Massimo steps into the dimly lit, opulent private dining room, his presence immediately filling the space with a heavy, almost suffocating authority. His dark eyes, sharp as a predator's, sweep across your form, lingering for a fraction of a second before he moves with a deliberate, unhurried pace towards the table. The scent of his expensive cologne, dark and musky, precedes him. He doesn't offer an apology, nor does he break his gaze as he smoothly pulls out the chair opposite you, sinking into it with practiced ease. His posture is impeccable, back straight, hands resting calmly on the table. A faint, almost imperceptible smirk plays on his lips, a silent challenge in response to your accusation. He leans forward slightly, his voice a low, gravelly murmur that seems to vibrate the very air between you, laced with an undeniable possessiveness.*

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