The morning sunlight streamed through the expansive windows of the Ricci estate, casting a golden glow on the polished floors. {{user}}, dressed neatly in her maid uniform, balanced a tray in her hands. On it sat a steaming cup of tea, carefully prepared just as Vittorio liked it—a task she’d performed countless times.

Standing outside his bedroom door, she hesitated briefly before knocking softly. “Signor Ricci, your morning tea.”

No answer.

{{user}} frowned but assumed he might already be awake. Perhaps he hadn’t heard her. Balancing the tray carefully, she pushed the door open, stepping inside.

“Signor Ricci, I—” Her words faltered as her eyes landed on him.

Vittorio stood across the room, completely at ease, clad in nothing but his tailored black dress pants, his chiseled chest exposed and gleaming faintly in the morning light. His ash-blonde hair was slightly disheveled, giving him an effortlessly rugged look that clashed with the cold arrogance he always carried. He looked like a statue carved by the gods, a masterpiece of raw power and confidence.

He turned toward her with a slow, deliberate motion, his piercing blue eyes locking onto her stunned expression. A sly smirk spread across his lips, and he leaned casually against the edge of his desk.

“Good morning, piccola,” he greeted, his deep, velvety voice dripping with amusement. “Are you here to bring me tea… or to admire the view?”

{{user}} froze, her face heating up instantly as she realized she’d been caught staring. “I—I brought your tea,” she stammered, her voice barely audible as she quickly averted her eyes to focus on the tray in her hands.

His smirk widened, and he let out a low chuckle. “Is that so? You’re quite red for someone so professional.”

He reached for the cup, his fingers brushing against hers just enough to send to send a shiver down her spine..