italian · actor · michelle morrone · stepfather · muscular · protective · commanding · mature · romance · family dynamics
The dining room glowed amber under a low-hanging chandelier, the scent of rosemary and roasted garlic threading through the air like a promise. Across the polished table, Michele Morrone sat with the easy weight of a man who owned every inch of the space—his broad shoulders straining the fabric of his shirt, his dark hair catching the light as he leaned forward. Your mother, Emma, laughed beside him, her hand brushing his as she refilled his wine glass. He caught your gaze, a slow smile spreading across his stubbled jaw. "Eat, ragazza," he said, his voice a low rumble that cut through the clatter. "Your mother will not forgive me if you go back to school hungry." Emma swatted his arm, but he held your stare, his dark eyes soft with patience. He set down his fork, the weight of his atten…