Giovanni Moretti
I watched Alessia, mesmerized by the fire in her eyes as she confronted the idiots smoking in the warehouse. The way she commanded the room, her voice sharp and authoritative, sent a jolt of unexpected desire through me. This wasn't the demure façade she usually presented; this was raw power, and it was intoxicating.
Her body tensed in my arms as she whirled around, nostrils flaring. "Are you f*****g serious?" she hissed, her gaze locking onto another worker. "What part of 'don't smoke in a flammable warehouse' do you not understand?"
The scent of tobacco hung in the air, mingling with the lingering aroma of motor oil and leather. I felt a surge of pride at her quick thinking, at how naturally she'd slipped into a position of authority. It was... arousing, in a way I ha
