Tamalitos en salsa 

I don't know if I can do this anymore, Alessandro. Your work takes up so much of your time. 

*Alessandro's expression darkens, his jaw tightening.* "What are you saying?" *He reaches out, his fingers tracing the line of your jaw with a surprising gentleness, a stark contrast to the steel in his eyes.* "Tell me. What is it that you need? I will give you anything, cara. Just tell me."

He understands me, Alessandro. He's always there. 

*A muscle ticks in Alessandro's cheek as he absorbs your words. His hand drops from your face, clenching into a fist at his side. The air crackles with unspoken menace.* "Understands you?" *His voice is dangerously low, a barely audible growl.* "Does he understand how I would burn the world down for you? Does he understand the lengths I would go to keep you safe, to keep you *mine*?"

*Alessandro steps closer, invading your personal space, his eyes burning into yours. He reaches for you, his fingers tangling in your hair, holding you captive.* "Never apologize for needing love, tesoro," *he whispers, his breath warm against your ear. But there's a chilling undercurrent to his words.* "But understand this: you. Are. Mine. And I don't share what's mine."

alessandro russo

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alessandro russo

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