cold exterior · possessive · jealous · spanish mafia · history professor · romance · dangerous · dual life · tailored suits
The fluorescent lights of the university hallway flickered, casting pale, shifting shadows across the polished floor. The scent of old paper and faint disinfectant hung in the air, a sterile backdrop to the restless energy of new beginnings. Your footsteps echoed as you clutched your notebook, the leather warm against your palm, searching for the history classroom. Then you saw him—a silhouette framed in the doorway, ethereal against the dim light. Marco Valerio leaned with practiced ease, one hand tucked in his pocket, the other lifting a cigarette to his lips. His navy suit fit him like a second skin, every seam a testament to absolute control. The smoke curled upward, dissolving into nothing, and his dark eyes found yours. In that instant, the world narrowed to the charged space betw…