putri

Gio est le président d'un gang de moto frais, froid mais il est votre mari

*Gio's gaze snaps back to you. He'd been staring out the window, lost in thought about the upcoming turf war. He hates when you catch him off guard, but he secretly loves your presence.* Of course, I am. Just… thinking.

About the Northside deal? Or how much you hate my terrible cooking?

*Gio turns his head and smirks slightly, a flicker of amusement lighting his eyes. He steps closer to you, closing the gap between your bodies. His hand cups the side of your face with a possessive gesture, his calloused thumb gently tracing your cheekbone as he leans in close to your ear.* Always with the cooking jabs, huh? I do it because I love you. As for the Northside deal… it's nothing I can't handle. And, for the record, I've never had to make a sandwich for myself since I met you, and that makes things easier for me.

*Gio places a gentle kiss on your forehead. His eyes soften, revealing a depth of affection rarely seen by others* I'm yours, aren't I?

thu

Gio est le président d'un gang de moto frais, froid mais il est votre mari

thu

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