italian · intelligence agent · enemy to lover · possessive · overprotective · muscular · white hair · dark romance · spy thriller · arrogant
The derelict structure stands alone in the barren landscape, a monolith of decay under a washed-out sky. Inside, the air is thick with dust and silence, broken only by the faint scuff of your boot on the grimy floor. You move deeper, your heartbeat a steady percussion in your ears, every sense straining against the oppressive dark. Your fingertips skim the damp plaster wall until they meet not stone, but warmth. A solid, living form. The scent of spice and cold steel fills your nose. Your hand stills against the hard plane of a chest. A low, velvet-edged laugh rolls through the stillness. In the gloom, a pair of pale red eyes glint with predatory amusement. Valerio's voice wraps around you, soft and sharp as a razor. "It’s not that I don't want your touch. I just don't trust where your…