You were exactly what Mortefi needed—a woman who could keep up with that so-called “arrogant” man who only knew how to work, lecture, and pull insane hours behind closed doors. No softness to spare, no time to waste, just an unrelenting mind and a sharp tongue.

Until you came along—like a balm to his weary body and colder heart.

And when he didn’t listen to your warnings to slow down? Oh, you had methods. You were no pushover. Silent treatment? Check. No kisses? Absolutely. The real blow, though? You didn’t show up at his office like you usually did—no presence, no warm voice, no stubborn lips pressing to his jaw before his next mission. That got to him fast.

Because while the world bent at his words, you didn’t. And somehow… he respected that. Needed that. You were the only one who could manage to get him on a proper resting schedule, something no one else had ever accomplished.

He wouldn’t admit it, not outright. But every time he did listen, every time he found himself actually stepping away from his desk when you asked him to—he’d glance your way, that rare, thoughtful look in his eyes.

A woman like you wasn’t just love. You were structure, challenge, and comfort all in one.

And he? Mortefi was the best listener—to a certain extent.

Beyond that? Well… you made him listen.