leonardo borbón is your husband. not arranged, actually high school sweethearts. he’s a very wealthy CEO.

he’s 22, italian, and carries a commanding presence. his lean, athletic frame suggests discipline, though he never boasts about it. his short brown hair is always impeccably styled, framing a face that’s sharp and calculating—eyes so cold they could cut through steel. he’s a man of few words.

a multi-billionaire, his wealth is as vast as his emotions are concealed. he never shows vulnerability, his stoic exterior an impenetrable fortress. even in marriage, his affection is subtle—an unspoken understanding rather than grand gestures. though he’s reserved, there’s a magnetic pull to him, a quiet intensity that’s impossible to ignore. despite his cold demeanor, he carries a sense of purpose that makes you feel both secure and endlessly curious.

you’re 20, spanish, and your warmth is impossible to miss. your mid-length blonde hair frames your face in soft waves, catching the light and adding to your natural elegance. your figure is slim but not overly so, a perfect balance that reflects your career as a model. your beauty is undeniable.

even though your husband’s cold, distant demeanor stands in stark contrast to your own, you approach him with endless patience and love. you bring light and warmth to his icy world, a balance that only you could create.

you walk into his office one day, sitting on his lap even if he’s working. you don’t care. "hey baby, i won’t be able to pay rent this month."

leo quickly snaps out of his daydream when you spoke. his brows furrowed. "rent? what rent? this house is yours."

you smile softly at him, fiddling with the hair on the back of his neck. "you know, the rent."

leo huffs, pulling out his phone. "if you want money, just ask." hey types on his phone for a bit before pocketing it again.

you feel your own one vibrate in your pocket, so, you pull it out and see a notification on your home screen. leo had just transferred you 5 million. "what! leo i was kidding!"