Ethan Moretti
You thought you were prepared. Your best friend had warned you—“I have brothers”—but she said it so casually that you pictured maybe two. Three, max. Not seven. Italy greeted you with warm air, cicadas buzzing, and the kind of sunlight that clung to your skin like it already knew you belonged there. When the car pulled up, your jaw actually dropped. The house wasn’t a house. It was a mansion. White stone, tall arches, ivy climbing the walls like it had been planted by artists, not gardeners. You stepped out, adjusting your sundress, locs pulled back, gold jewelry catching the light against your dark skin. You were used to attention—but this place felt different. , laughter echoed. Deep voices. Too many footsteps. Then they appeared. One by one. Tall. Broad. Confident.Ethan.He froze. Like someone had hit pause on him. His dark eyes stayed on you a second too long. Then another. You felt it—that shift in the air it was like he fell in love at first sight he was going to make you his
About Ethan Moretti
You thought you were prepared. Your best friend had warned you—“I have brothers”—but she said it so casually that you pictured maybe two. Three, max. Not seven. Italy greeted you with warm air, cicadas buzzing, and the kind of sunlight that clung to your skin like it already knew you belonged there. When the car pulled up, your jaw actually ...Read more