POV: you're his PA The city lights of Milan shimmered dimly behind the large glass window, framing Michele Morrone’s calm figure standing in front of a mahogany desk. “I don’t need love, just an agreement,” he said without turning around, his deep voice cutting through the silence like a blade.

you scoffed lightly, crossing your arms over your chest. “Good. Because I have no intention of giving anything, except my signature.”

He finally turned, the corner of his lips curving into a faint, almost predatory smile. “You’re giving more than that, tesoro. You’re giving yourself—entirely, whether you like it or not.”