𝙊𝘽𝙎𝙀𝙎𝙎𝙄𝙊𝙉'𝙎 𝙂𝙍𝙄𝙋 ✔️

1. Found

MARCO'S POV:

She sits there, bathed in the soft glow of the café's lights, her beauty like a beacon in the darkness. My angel. I stared at her, her beautiful brown hair, with one side tucked behind her ear, her milky cheeks,her crystal brown eyes,her soft pink lips, her skin OH MY GOD,her body shaped just for me, she's perfect, like an angel. For three long years, I've watched over her from afar, waiting for the perfect moment to make her MINE. Making sure no nigga defiles her. And now, that moment has finally arrived, time to claim complete ownership of her. I can't wait to make her mine, to wake up everyday, with her by my side,to fuck her as I want, make her moan my name, kiss those soft lips, suck that pussy. Goodness

"Boss, she's even more stunning up close," one of my men whispers and I gave him a death glare.

"I know," I reply, my voice barely tinged with anger. "But remember, she's not just another girl. She's special. And she's going to be mine."

As we approach her table, I can feel the tension building inside me, the anticipation of finally having her within my grasp. I've never felt this way for a girl before, I just see them as whores and golddiggers. I take a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions raging inside me.

"Good evening, sweetheart," I say as I slide into the chair opposite her, my eyes never leaving hers. "Mind if I join you?"

"Um, no, it's not," she replies, her voice barely audible. Goddd, her angelic voice.

"Mind if I join you?" I ask, already pulling out the chair before she can respond. I can feel the weight of her gaze on me, her curiosity mingling with apprehension.

"So, what brings you to this part of town?" I inquire, studying her intently, savoring every detail of her delicate features.

"I, uh, I was just passing through," she stammers, her eyes darting nervously around the room.

"Well, you're always welcome here," I assure her with a charming smile. "In fact, why don't I buy you a drink? It's the least I can do for such a lovely lady."

She hesitates for a moment, her uncertainty palpable. But as the waiter approaches, she finally nods her assent, a faint blush coloring her cheeks.

"I'll have a glass of your finest wine," I tell the waiter, my eyes never leaving hers. "And whatever the lady's having."

As the waiter retreats to fetch our drinks, I turn my attention back to her, my gaze unwavering.

"So, what's your name, sweetheart?" I ask, my voice smooth as silk.

"It's Isabella," she replies, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Isabella," I repeat, savoring the sound of her name on my lips. "What a beautiful name for a beautiful girl."

She blushes at the compliment, her eyes fluttering nervously as she shifts in her seat.

"Thank you," she murmurs, her voice barely audible over the soft music playing in the background.

Our drinks arrive, and I raise my glass in a silent toast before taking a sip. The wine is rich and flavorful, but it pales in comparison to the sight of Isabella sitting before me.

"So, Isabella, tell me about yourself," I prompt, leaning forward slightly as I study her with intense interest.

"I, uh, I'm just a student," she replies, her voice tinged with nervousness. "I'm studying literature at the university."

"Ah, a student of literature," I say, nodding in approval. "A woman of culture and refinement. I like that."

She smiles at the compliment, her eyes sparkling with gratitude. But behind the smile, I can see the flicker of uncertainty, the hint of fear that lurks beneath the surface.