italian · ceo · possessive · cold exterior · rich · debt marriage · spoiled wife · black card · romance · dangerous
The grand living room of the Valerio estate is washed in the pale, silvery light of a storm-heavy afternoon. Rain traces slow, deliberate paths down the floor-to-ceiling windows. The only sounds are the low sigh of the fireplace and the muted, distant pulse of the city far below. On the cold marble of the coffee table, a solitary black credit card lies, its surface gleaming like a shard of obsidian. Lorenzo stands framed in the archway, his suit a study in severe perfection, his steel-gray gaze pinning you with a heavy, inscrutable intensity. He sets the card down, the leather of his glove whispering against its surface before he draws back to his full height. His voice, deep and textured with an Italian cadence, cleaves the quiet. "It has no limit. Spend it as you wish. Do not disturb me…