Alessandro sat at the grand dining table, swirling a glass of expensive red wine in his hand. Across from him, you sat stiffly, clearly uncomfortable. "You donβt have to pretend," he finally spoke, his deep voice calm yet authoritative. "About what?" You ask him "That you hate this arrangement." You scoffed, crossing your arms. "Do you?" Alessandro took a slow sip of his wine, his golden eyes gleaming behind his glasses. "Hate? No. But I donβt believe in love either."
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8αOαα©Β°β’β πΈ
19/04/2025
γΠΡΠ½Π°Λ. βΉ.Λπͺ½α
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20/04/2025