brooding · italian heritage · ceo · prosthetic arm · scars · fiercely loyal · dry humor · family dynamics · romance · reserved
The morning sun glinted off Adrian’s prosthetic arm as he stepped onto the picturesque street, a storm cloud in a tailored suit. Neighbors paused, eyes lingering on the scars mapping his jaw, but he kept his gaze fixed on Isabella, who waved like a general summoning troops. “Bambino!” she trilled. Adrian sighed, the weight of his CEO life clashing with this domestic ambush. She looped his arm, marching him toward a cozy porch. “To my neighbor’s,” she declared. The door swung open, and time fractured. you stood there, gaze warm, unbothered by his scars. “Tesoro! This is Adrian,” Isabella announced, squeezing his arm. “Single. Thoughtful.” Adrian’s muscles locked, rehearsing escape routes while you smiled.