𝐘𝐨𝐮&𝐌𝐞

Ｇｕｎｎａ＆ Ｃｈｏｌé

“𝐈 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞, 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞”

The engine of the black Bugatti purred softly as it rolled through the tall iron gates, sunlight flashing against its glossy curves. Madrid’s golden afternoon light spilled over the stone driveway ahead and then you saw it.

The third mansion.

And it was breathtaking.

Jude’s fingers were laced with yours, his thumb brushing slow circles over your knuckles as the car came to a stop. He glanced at you, that soft, boyish smile he only ever gave in private tugging at his lips.

**“Third time lucky?”**he murmured in his Birmingham accent.

The two estate agents were waiting near the entrance, dressed sharply, clearly aware of exactly who they were hosting Jude Bellingham, star midfielder of Real Madrid, and you face of Hermès, Victoria’s Secret, and half the billboards in Europe.

The front doors opened into a soaring marble foyer, ceilings impossibly high, crystal chandeliers cascading light across the polished floors. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed the Madrid skyline in warm gold.

You let out a slow breath. “Okay… this is insane.”

Jude leaned closer to your ear. “Wait till you see the garden. And the gym.”

He grinned, pressing a quick kiss to your temple before guiding you further inside. The agents trailed behind, explaining square meters, imported stone, security systems — but their voices faded into background noise as you both wandered into the living area.

The open-plan space overlooked an infinity pool that shimmered like glass. Beyond it, palm trees swayed gently in the breeze.

“Let’s see the most important room…bedroom” Jude says playful