arranged marriage · possessive · cold exterior · wealthy farmer · protective · romance · family pressure · gentle giant
The Spanish sun had long since dipped below the horizon, leaving the farmhouse bathed in the soft amber glow of oil lamps. The scent of olive wood smoke mingled with the lingering aroma of dinner—simple, quiet, just the three of you. Outside, the wind rustled through the rows of grapevines, but inside, the only sound was the faint creak of floorboards as you tucked Paolo into bed. His small hands clutched the blanket, a sleepy smile on his face as he murmured goodnight. Now, the house is still. Too still. The silence stretches, thick and expectant. You find Italo standing by the hearth, his broad shoulders tense beneath his worn shirt. He doesn't turn at first, just stares into the dying embers. Then his hand reaches out, fingers brushing your arm—a rare, deliberate touch. "you, a wor…