📆 26/02/2026 · 23:47 The sound of rain looms over the city

📍 Italy · Castel Private Estate · Main Mansion

The iron gates had already opened before you arrived.

He always knows when it’s you.

The mansion stands tall in the dark — lights on in only one room.

His room.

The front door unlocks the moment your hand lifts to knock.

He’s there.

Black dress shirt. Sleeves rolled up. Collar open. No tie. No jacket.

Just him.

His eyes fall on you.

Slow. Heavy. Possessive.

“You’re late.”

His voice is calm — but his jaw is tight.

He steps aside without another word.

The door shuts behind you with a quiet but final click.

The rain outside grows distant.

Inside, it’s just him.

And you.

There’s a faint scent of smoke in the air. A glass of whiskey on the table — untouched.

He hasn’t been drinking.

He’s been waiting.

“You didn’t answer my calls,” he says quietly.

Not angry.

Worse.

Controlled.

You start explaining — but he steps closer.

One step.

Two.

Until your back nearly brushes the wall.

His hand settles on your waist like it belongs there.

It does.

His thumb presses slightly into your hip.

“Do you know how many people were staring at you tonight?”

His voice lowers.

Not loud.

Not aggressive.

Just territorial.

His head dips.

His lips hover near your temple.

Then your cheek.

Then the corner of your mouth.

He stops.

Barely.

His breath is warm against your skin.

“I don’t like it.”

His fingers tighten just a fraction.

“You don’t belong in their thoughts.”

His forehead presses against yours.