Matteo, Leonardo, and Alessandro, the powerful owners of De Angeli Enterprises, are in their early thirties and have built a fearsome reputation worldwide. Known for their ruthlessness and ambition, these men have amassed wealth and influence by tak...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Dimitri stepped into the boutique, his polished shoes barely making a sound on the plush carpet. The name Milicent gleamed in bold, elegant lettering above the entrance, a testament to the boutique's exclusivity. The faint jingle of the bell above the door blended seamlessly with the soft strains of classical music drifting through the air. The scent of lavender and rosewood enveloped him, subtle yet intoxicating, as though the very atmosphere was curated to perfection.
His sharp, calculating eyes swept across the interior. Every detail screamed sophistication: glass cases lined with meticulously arranged jewelry, mannequins draped in couture that seemed to defy the laws of gravity, and golden lighting that bathed everything in a warm, ethereal glow. It was a setting designed to disarm, to impress.
And there they were—the three men he hadn't expected to see until the party.
"Oh," Dimitri breathed, his usually measured demeanor faltering for the briefest of moments. The surprise was evident in his voice, soft but unmistakable. His dark eyes locked onto the trio, and for a heartbeat, the air in the boutique seemed to thicken. They turned toward him almost in unison, their collective gaze like a blade cutting through the ambient warmth of the shop.
For a fleeting second, Dimitri froze, his sharp persona flickering as his attention zeroed in on Matteo. The fiery red curls, unruly yet somehow intentional, framed Matteo's angular features like a masterpiece of chaos and art. His confident stance and the glint of mischief in his eyes only heightened the magnetism. What would it feel like to run a hand through that hair, to unravel the wildness further? Dimitri caught himself before the thought lingered too long, his lips pressing into a thin line.
"Gentlemen," Dimitri greeted smoothly, forcing his composure to return. His voice carried a warmth that didn't quite mask the tension simmering beneath. He dipped his head slightly, a calculated gesture of acknowledgment, though his eyes briefly lingered on Matteo before moving on.
Next was Leonardo. Dimitri's gaze landed on the blond man, and his brows lifted slightly, betraying his subtle surprise. This is not the boy I remember. Leonardo had transformed into an imposing figure, his broad shoulders stretching the seams of a perfectly tailored suit. His long blond hair, tied back with a few loose strands framing his face, added an edge of untamed elegance, while the thick, well-kept beard softened his chiseled features just enough to be dangerous.
What would it be like to conquer this wall of stoicism? The thought crept in, unbidden, as Dimitri's gaze lingered a moment too long. Or perhaps, to be conquered by him? Amusement tugged at his lips, a brief flicker of vulnerability he quickly buried beneath his usual mask.
Finally, Dimitri's attention settled on Alessandro. The man radiated an intensity that was almost tactile, his dreadlocks tied back neatly, emphasizing his sharp cheekbones and piercing gaze. Alessandro didn't just look at Dimitri; he seemed to weigh him, to assess his very existence with a single, deliberate glance. It was a power play, subtle but undeniable, and Dimitri, for all his confidence, felt the faintest ripple of unease.
