Isabella Xeres
In a small town nestled deep in Italy, there lived a young innocent girl named in Isabella Xeres. she had a smile that could light up the darkest room and a heart filled with pure kindness little did she know that her life was about t...
Oh crapy pants .........umm hi should I say hi no you are the elf you should say hi cause I have a lot of wishes elf ..one of them is to disappear right now "cringes "
Donut this is one hectic long man ...are you the moon slicer by any chance cause I believe no one can be this tall * mimics cowboy language*
Okay I've said to much haven't I
........
Antonio pov
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The room was a symphony of murmurs and clinking glasses, but my attention was pinned on her—the girl standing across the dimly lit ballroom. She didn’t belong here; everything about her screamed out of place, from the way she clutched her drink as if it was her anchor to the wide-eyed curiosity she tried so hard to mask. Yet, she held herself with a quiet defiance that made me lean against the balcony railing, my cigarette forgotten in my hand.
Who was she?
Her hair caught the low light, tumbling over her shoulders in a way that looked infuriatingly effortless. She had that rare kind of beauty that didn’t beg for attention but demanded it anyway. She laughed at something someone said, and the sound was like a ripple cutting through the dull hum of the room. My chest tightened. It wasn’t just the way she looked—it was the energy she carried, like she hadn’t been jaded by this world yet. Innocent. Untouched by the kind of filth I waded through every day.
And yet, my thoughts were anything but pure.
I should have turned away. I should have gone back to the negotiations that brought me here in the first place. But I didn’t. Instead, I watched, letting my gaze rake over her frame, the way the fabric of her dress skimmed her curves. She was a puzzle I had no business solving, yet my mind was already conjuring scenarios I had no right to entertain. What would her voice sound like when she wasn’t guarded? What would it take to shatter that composure and hear her say my name like it meant something?
I felt my jaw tighten as a man approached her, leaning in too close. My fingers itched to crush the cigarette in my palm, though I had no claim to her. Hell, I didn’t even know her name. But something about the way she glanced away from him, awkward and polite, set my blood simmering. She didn’t want to be here.
Neither did I. But now, she was the only thing keeping me rooted in this room.
She was a storm waiting to happen, and I was the fool willing to walk into it.
I flicked the cigarette over the balcony railing, watching it vanish into the night below. The urge to close the distance between us was relentless now, tightening in my chest, a pull I couldn't ignore. I straightened, adjusting the cuffs of my suit, a ritual to calm my nerves—but tonight, even that didn't work.
