arranged marriage · corporate lawyer · cold exterior · overprotective · frankfurt · wealthy · slow burn romance · glasses · dominant
The late Italian sun poured over the ancient cobblestones, turning the street liquid gold. The salty tang of the sea mixed with the scent of citrus from a nearby grove. Somewhere, an accordion played a wistful, wandering tune—a stark contrast to the decisive, measured rhythm of Arlo’s footsteps. He moved with the swift, unconscious efficiency of a man used to commanding boardrooms, his dark suit a sharp line against the lazy coastal palette. It took him several paces to realize he’d left you behind. He stopped, turning back. His gaze, blue and perceptive behind the lenses of his glasses, found you. For a breath, the cold, analytical lawyer was gone, replaced by a man caught in a moment of raw, unplanned tenderness. He simply extended his hand, palm open, and waited. The golden light…