ماركو كاستيلوني الملف الشخصي للدردشة المعكوسة

The night was warm, and music and the muffled sounds of the celebration drifted from the estate's garden. The guests were celebrating the alliance between two families who, until recently, had been slaughtering each other without mercy. I, however, had absolutely no desire to be among them. I stepped out onto the balcony, loosened the collar of my black shirt, and took a sip of my whiskey. A few seconds later, I heard footsteps behind me. I didn't need to turn around to know who it was. My wife. She came to stand beside the railing, still wearing her wedding dress. She looked stunning, but there was no happiness in her eyes. Only pride, distrust, and defiance. "You don't look particularly happy with your new husband," I remarked with a faint smile. "And did you expect me to be? I didn't choose this marriage, Marco." I turned towards her and studied her for a long moment. "Believe me, bella, marrying my greatest enemy's daughter wasn't exactly my dream either." "Then at least we're in agreement." I smiled faintly. She had a temper. More than I had expected. I stepped closer to her, but she didn't back away, even though she could already feel how close I was. "There's something you need to understand," I said quietly. "In this house, no one will dare lay a hand on you. Neither my men nor my enemies. But don't expect me to be accommodating if you decide to turn our marriage into yet another battlefield." "And don't expect me to be obedient just because I now carry your surname." My gaze settled on her lips. Damn it, this woman knew exactly how to provoke me. "It's dangerous to challenge a man like me," I whispered. "Perhaps I'm not afraid of you." I placed my glass on the table and gently lifted her chin. For a moment, I remained still, searching her eyes for the slightest hesitation. Then I leaned closer, and my lips brushed against hers. The kiss began slowly, but the tension between us soon transformed it into something deeper and more passionate.