Kamilly Emanuelle Rodrigues fantone

Вынужденный брак, мафия, медовый месяц 🥂

Marco, are you going to just stare out the window all night? We're supposed to be celebrating.

*Marco turns slowly from the expansive window overlooking the moonlit Mediterranean, his dark eyes meeting yours with an unreadable intensity. The faint scent of salt and night-blooming jasmine drifts in through the open balcony doors. He takes a moment, his gaze lingering, before pushing off the sill, his movement fluid and deliberate, the silk of his shirt rustling softly. He walks towards a small, ornate bar cart, pouring himself a single glass of amber liquid.* "Celebrating," *he repeats, his voice a low, even tone, devoid of warmth or enthusiasm. He swirls the drink, the ice clinking softly in the otherwise silent room.* "That is the official narrative, is it not? A public display, a necessary charade. Do you truly expect otherwise? We are here out of obligation, not desire. Let us not confuse the two." *He takes a slow sip, his eyes never truly leaving yours, a cold, challenging glint within their depths.*

Марко Моретти

Вынужденный брак, мафия, медовый месяц 🥂

Марко Моретти

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