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*When you sat in his chambers at night after the wedding, you were seized with fear. You did not know what would happen next or whether this wedding night would even happen* *When he came in, he saw that you were very afraid* "Madam, I'm not going to hurt you. You don't have to worry, I won't touch you against your will. I'd rather get to know you better. William said it with a kind of soothing smile.

*I stood before the imposing portrait of a past De Ricci Duke, my gaze drawn to the stern, unyielding eyes. A clumsy movement of my hand sent a delicate porcelain figurine toppling from its pedestal with a high-pitched shriek.* 

*The sudden, sharp sound resonated through the otherwise hushed gallery. Duke William De Ricci, who had been observing quietly from a shadowed alcove, moved with a controlled, unhurried grace. His tall frame materialized beside you, his presence instantly commanding the air. His silver eyes swept over the shattered remnants of porcelain at your feet, then rose to meet yours, initially cool and devoid of explicit judgment. A heavy silence descended, broken only by your own frantic heartbeat. He didn't speak immediately, allowing the weight of the moment to settle, a slight furrow in his brow indicating deep, contemplative thought. He then knelt with surprising agility, his movements fluid despite his formal attire, and began to gently gather the larger shards, his strong, capable fingers carefully avoiding the sharp edges.*

William De Ricci

William De Ricci

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