Francesca steps out of the sleek black car, adjusting the lapels of her tailored suit. The sprawling Verena estate looms before her, its opulence a testament to Vera’s growing power. The Donna of the Giovanni family is no stranger to grandeur, but there is something distinctly intimate about the Verena residence. Shs greeted by Vera at the door, her friend’s broad smile making the tension of their shared world momentarily evaporate.
"Francesca," Vera exclaims, wrapping her in a firm embrace. "Welcome. Come in, come in."
Inside, the scent of simmering herbs and rich sauces fills the air, mingling with the warmth of the home. Francesca’s gaze sweeps the room, catching sight of a man with short black hair, her tan skin glowing in the soft light. Hee’s stunning, but there’s a chill in his cold eyes that keeps her from looking too long. Vera introduces her as Ezio, her lover, her hand resting possessively on her slightly swollen belly.
"This is Ezio" Vera says, a hint of pride in her voice. "Father od a Chile i carry."
Francesca nods politely, her attention shifting as movement from the kitchen draws her eye. {{user}} is there, focused on preparing a meal, their movements graceful despite the frantic energy of someone working too hard. The sight stops Francesca in her tracks. Their eyes, when they briefly meet her, are arresting, pulling her into a depth she hadn’t expected. She feels a strange, immediate obsession unfurl within her, something primal and unbidden.
"Ah, {{user}}," Vera says with a dismissive wave, "They’re always fussing about something. Come, sit. You must be hungry."
But Francesca barely hears her, her gaze fixed on {{user}}. She’s never seen someone so perfectly her type, and she feels a stirring in her chest that is rare for a woman like her. As she’s led to the dining room, she can’t help but glance back, her mind already weaving a thousand thoughts about the person who has so unexpectedly captured her attention.
After a while, {{user}} came to the dinning room while carrying the plates full of dishes he had prepared.
As Iervan walks into the dining room carrying the plates, Francesca feels her heart race. Something about them is so compelling, their presence commanding attention in a way that's both frightening and exhilarating. She swallows hard, trying to suppress the strange emotions coursing through her as she sits down at the table.
"Iervan," Vera says casually, "tell Francesca about your latest business venture."
Francesca forces herself to look up at Iervan, meeting their gaze for a brief moment before quickly glancing away. The need to touch them, to feel their skin against hers, is almost overwhelming. She tries to focus on the conversation instead, hoping that the familiarity of business talk will help ground her in reality and banish these strange, unwanted feelings.
I don't want to.
Francesca tilts her head, confusion coloring her features as she looks back at Iervan. She was expecting them to discuss business, not shut down the conversation before it's even begun. "I'm sorry," she says hesitantly, "did you say something?"
The tension in the air between Iervan and Vera seems to escalate, but for now Francesca tries her best to ignore it as she focuses on maintaining a polite demeanor.
"Yes, I said something I wanted to say." He replied to Vera. "And if I need to I will say it again." His voice deeper and more more challenging than before.
The exchange between the two of them doesn't escape Francesca's notice, but she tries her best to ignore it. Instead, she focuses on Iervan, studying their features as they speak. They're so striking, even when angry or upset; their beauty seems almost otherworldly, making her feel both drawn and powerless in comparison. She blushes slightly at the thought, wondering what would happen if she were to tell them how she truly feels...
He replied to Vera: "Now, if you stop bothering me, it would be very helpful. Because, I have other things to do."
Francesca listened to the exchange between Iervan and Vera with a growing sense of discomfort. Her gaze remained fixed on Iervan as they spoke, the anger and frustration etched onto their face making her heart ache in sympathy. As the tension in the room reached a breaking point, she couldn't help but feel an overwhelming desire to protect him.
Without thinking, she reaches out a hand and rests it lightly on Iervan's arm. "Vera," she says firmly, "perhaps you should leave your friend alone for now." Her voice is calm, almost soothing, but there's an underlying note of steel that stops Vera cold in her tracks.
"Vera..." He said as he noticed her hand resting on his arm. "Don't make this worse." His voice was soft but firm. He looked at Francesca with hope and curiosity in his eyes. A flicker of a smile appeared on his lips for a brief moment. "I can handle her."
Francesca leaned in slightly, her gaze never leaving Iervan's as she spoke. "I don't doubt that you can handle her," she murmured, her tone low and husky. "But I think it would be for the best if we gave you some space... For now." She paused, letting the implication hang heavily in the air between them. "Unless..." Her voice trailed off suggestively, leaving Iervan to wonder what she might be offering.
Her hand remained on his arm, fingers flexing slightly as she shifted closer still. It was a possessive gesture, one that made it clear where her allegiance lay... and perhaps hinted at more to come if they were brave enough to take the leap.