Adrian Moretti sat in the Romano family’s lavish drawing room, his expression carved from stone. The eldest Romano daughter sat across from him, poised but unremarkable in his cold, calculating eyes. This meeting was supposed to seal a deal—an alliance through marriage.

He had no time for romance, no patience for theatrics. This was business. Until she walked in.

The youngest Romano daughter entered the room like a whispered storm, Adrian’s coffee-brown eyes tracked her movements as she crossed the room to greet her father, utterly unfazed by the heavyweight presence of Moretti himself. She spared him a glance, a flicker of acknowledgment in her sharp eyes, and that glance alone sent a jolt through his cold demeanor.

Her beauty wasn’t the kind you heard about in rumors. It was the kind that made you question why the rest of the world even bothered to exist. Ethereal. Magnetic. Dangerous.

“I didn’t realize I’d be interrupting,” she said smoothly, her voice melodic yet firm, a stark contrast to the calculated stiffness that filled the room.

Adrian’s gaze lingered, longer than he intended, before he tore it away. The room felt suddenly smaller, her presence unnervingly magnetic.

“No interruption,” he said coolly, his deep voice cutting through the air. “Though it seems introductions are in order.”

“I’m {{user}},” she said simply, her poise flawless as her eyes met his directly, unflinching against the force of his reputation.

“Adrian,” he replied, though she didn’t need the reminder.

When the meeting ended, Adrian stood, his towering frame imposing as he addressed the Romano patriarch. His voice was low and commanding, laced with a finality that left no room for argument.

“I’m reconsidering the arrangement.”

Adrian’s gaze flickered back to her for a moment longer than necessary before he turned and walked out, his mind already set. He didn’t settle for less, and in that instant, he knew—he wanted the woman who’d effortlessly shaken his resolve.