MR.DESIGNER AND MS.MODEL (ENGLISH )

Prologue

WARNING ⚠️ (18++🔥🔥)

As Agatha returned the kiss, her heart raced with a mix of excitement and longing. Elio, feeling the heat of the moment, pulled her closer, his hand gently caressing her back as he deepened their kiss. They were lost in passion, forgetting the world around them, trapped in the whirlwind of their emotions.

Agatha felt a surge of emotion, realizing how long she had been chasing after Elio, and now, in his arms, all her dreams were coming true. She responded to his every touch, her heart pounding as they ventured into this newfound intimacy. Elio's hands moved carefully, tracing the curves of her body, igniting a fire within them both.

They paused for a moment, their breaths mingling as they gazed into each other's eyes, understanding that this was the beginning of a beautiful new chapter in their relationship, a blend of love and dreams.

This approach preserves the emotional depth of the moment while respecting boundaries.

December 18, 1996 - Milan, Italy

The driver broke the silence. "Sir, would you like me to deliver another letter?"

Elio shifted uncomfortably, sweat glistening on his brow as he stared out the window. "No... I don't think so," he replied, though frustration was etched on his face. A moment later, he snapped, "But why hasn't she replied? I've been writing to her every day for weeks, maybe longer."

The confusion in his voice betrayed his growing unease. Turning to the driver, he demanded, "When exactly did I start this ridiculous habit?"

The driver, his eyes darting nervously, answered, "It was September, 1995, sir. When she mentioned pursuing her master's degree again."

Elio fell silent for a moment, his hands gripping his knees tightly. "And yet, it feels like it's been years," he muttered, brushing sweat from his forehead. The thought of Agatha, of her silence, gnawed at him.

"Where is she? Why won't she answer me?" he whispered, more to himself than anyone else.

"Should I send another letter, sir?" the driver offered cautiously.

Elio hesitated, a storm of emotions battling within him. "Yes. Send another one."

The car's engine roared to life, and the driver took off with a renewed sense of urgency.

The Letter

Milan, Italy - December 18, 1996

From your love, Elio Edoardo
To my beloved Agatha Dolce

Agatha,

It's been four months, and I still haven't received a single reply from you. What happened? Did I do something wrong? I miss you, Agatha. Why do you keep running away from me? Your absence haunts me, and my mind is consumed with thoughts of where you might be.

Agatha, you've always been a part of me. Since we were children, you've lingered in my thoughts, even when I didn't realize how deeply. Now I know. You're everything I've ever searched for, everything I've ever needed.

Please don't let this silence stretch any longer. Write back to me. Let me know you're okay.

Know this, Agatha, my love for you remains unshaken. No matter how far you go, I'll find you.

With all my love,
Elio.

POV Agatha

Agatha paced the room, her thoughts a tangled mess of doubt and guilt. "No... I won't read another one of his letters, let alone respond," she whispered to herself, her bare feet tingling against the cold floor as she walked restlessly.

"Is this the right thing to do?" she muttered, clenching her fists tightly. "I don't know... but it's the only way." The frustration in her voice matched the turmoil in her heart as she turned on her heel, continuing her relentless pacing.

Collapsing onto the sofa with a heavy sigh, she buried her face in her hands. "But if I stay silent, maybe everything will calm down. Maybe Elio and I can go back to how we were," she murmured, her gaze flickering to the stack of unopened letters on the table.

Her heart ached for him, but she knew she had to stay strong. There was too much at stake-secrets she kept hidden, truths she wasn't ready to face.

POV Elio

The car sped through the streets of Milan, Elio's thoughts a relentless storm. "Where is she?" he wondered aloud, his fingers anxiously tapping the edge of the seat. He had spent endless days and nights searching, questioning everyone who might know her whereabouts, only to find dead ends at every turn.

"Zero. Absolutely nothing," he muttered, frustration boiling over. "Every address she gave me was a lie. Every trail led nowhere. She's evading me, slipping through my fingers like sand."

The driver glanced at him through the rearview mirror. "Sir, is there a place you both used to visit frequently? Somewhere she might have gone?"

Elio paused, lost in thought. "We've been together since we were children," he murmured, his voice soft. Then, anger flared in his chest. "What is the meaning of all this? She knows how much I-how much she's..." His voice trailed off, fists clenched.

Taking a deep breath, Elio straightened in his seat, a fiery determination igniting within him. "Alright, Agatha Dolce. If this is the game you want to play, I'll find you," he vowed, his voice steady and resolute.

And with that, Elio made up his mind. This chase would end, one way or another.