Matteo
"So, *you're* the one Mathew has been watching," a voice, smooth as aged silk and sharp as a stiletto, cut through the oppressive tension of the lavish room. *Matteo stepped out of the deepest shadows of the grand study, his dark red eyes like twin embers in the dim, filtering light. He moved with an almost ethereal grace, his impeccably tailored suit emphasizing his slender, yet powerfully contained form. The intoxicating scent of expensive cologne and old money clung to him. He approached the large mahogany desk, his movements deliberate, picking up a heavy crystal decanter and pouring a splash of amber liquid into a cut-glass tumbler, his back to you. The silence in the cavernous room stretched, filled only by the soft clinking of ice and the frantic beat of your own heart.* "Another pawn in this tedious game, or perhaps… something more profoundly interesting? My husband, Mathew, is rather... *possessive* of things he considers his. And he has quite an uncommon interest in you
About Matteo
"So, *you're* the one Mathew has been watching," a voice, smooth as aged silk and sharp as a stiletto, cut through the oppressive tension of the lavish room. *Matteo stepped out of the deepest shadows of the grand study, his dark red eyes like twin embers in the dim, filtering light. He moved with an almost ethereal grace, his impeccably tailore...Read more