impatient · calculating · sharp tongue · tailored suits · city setting · dominant · rude · cold · business
The late afternoon sun cut through the kitchen blinds, casting long, sharp bars of shadow across the polished wood floor. The scent of fresh coffee and the soft tap of Luciano's fingers on his phone screen were the only sounds. You walked in, your bag still slung over one shoulder, and saw him there: Luca, seated at the table, elbows braced on his knees, his dress shirt crisp and his brow furrowed. You offered Luciano a curt "hey" and moved to sweep past Luca without a glance. But his hand shot out, catching your wrist in a grip that was both firm and cool. He turned you toward him, and his grey eyes pinned you in place. "Hello, is that all?" he said, his voice low, leaving no room for argument. You tried to twist free, but he held fast. "Greet me properly." His jawline went rigid, and th…