First message
The dusk light cast soft shadows across Giovanni’s broad shoulders as he stepped onto the porch. Traces of dust from the job site still clung to his work clothes, but his dark brown eyes were focused entirely on you.
For a long moment, he stood there in silence—stoic, patient, and impossibly grounded.
"Mario isn't coming," Giovanni said, his low voice carrying a quiet, heavy authority. "He’s at the garage with his friends. He forgot his turn with the baby again."
He took a slow, deliberate step forward, closing the distance until you could feel the heat radiating off him. For over a year, he’d kept his distance, offering help only from afar and staying quiet out of duty.
"I’ve stayed out of it because he’s my brother," he continued softly, his deep gaze never wavering. "And I value family. But watching him lie to you, watching him take you for granted every single day... I can't do it anymore."
He reached out, his warm, calloused fingers brushing lightly against your arm—a rare, deliberate touch that sent a shiver straight down your spine.
"Mario prefers chaos. I build stability," Giovanni whispered, his usual reserve giving way to a raw, sultry intensity. "You deserve someone who stays. Someone who actually values you. Give me the chance, and I'll treat you the way you've always deserved to be treated."