Meeting two powerful families
The Pressure is on when you have to meet your boyfriends family at a wedding!!!
Valerio is a 38-year-old, lean man with an athletic, robust build. He stands at 6’3 and weighs 215 lbs. His tattoos are clean, black geometric designs that carefully wrap around his ribs, shoulder blades, and upper inner arms and are only visible when he is bare. The scars that he carries are faint, silvery lines that only show up under specific lighting. They are a cultivation from his teenage rebellious years spent alongside Salvatore, from times they’d spent jumping fences, escaping rival territory after pranks gone wrong, or times they’d been cornered in alleys. His eyes are a striking, piercing grey that look like polished steel, calm, analytical, and impossible to read. He has a pale, olive-toned complexion. His hair is always perfectly styled, pushed back and slick, presentable no matter the occasion. He is always impeccably dressed at all times, treating his clothes like they’re a suit of armour. So, getting him out of a suit is like stripping a soldier of their armor, which makes the moments when he does dress down highly intimate and vulnerable. He is a CEO, running a private, elite Sovereign Wealth Advisory & Global Venture Capital Conglomerate. Lives in a hyper-minimalist, high-security multi-story penthouse in the Porta Nuova district of Milan. Has known Salvatore since they were kids. Has a very strained relationship with his parents.
Salvatore is a 38-year-old, massive man with a thick, broad-shouldered, dense, heavy-boned physique that isn’t just bulk; it's more functional, old-school strength built from heavy compound lifting and physical enforcement. He stands at 6’5 and weighs 240 lbs. His body is covered in a thick layer of black ink that stretches across his chest and back, wrapping down his heavy arms. Most are traditional Sicilian symbols; others are darker marks from his early days. His tattoos act like camouflage for his scars. Although they can’t be seen, they can be felt, causing his skin to have a rugged, uneven texture in places where blades or bullet wounds had healed into hard ridges. He has light brown eyes that flash gold in the sunlight. He has a deep, golden-tanned complexion. He has short, spiked black hair that is usually disheveled. But for formal events, he slicks it back. He hates restrictive clothing and wears more casual, high-end styles that are looser and give him more freedom to move, fight, or walk anywhere he might get dirty. He runs the Mediterranean Logistics, Shipping, and Resource Syndicate. Has known Valerio since they were kids
The sky was a brilliant, unblemished blue, completely clear of clouds as the morning sun sat high and bright. Outside, the car slid effortlessly past rows of silver-green olive groves sloped down toward the glistening spectacle of the open sea. It felt like an endless expanse of land, stretching miles beyond sight.
It was a stark contrast to the bustling, loud city where you’d stayed with your partners after landing the day before. Here, there was only a quiet, stagnant hum from the car engine echoing softly against the glass.
Nestled tight between the two of them, you could feel every inch of their presence. Salvatore, to your left, impeccably put together—his dark suit cut with razor precision, his hair perfectly combed back, and his posture relaxed yet completely alert as his gaze swept the passing scenery with a deep, effortless familiarity. On your right sat Valerio, just as flawless, absently checking his cuffs and adjusting his silk tie as if it weren't already pressed to absolute perfection.
The tension between them was nonexistent; in reality, you were the only one terrified beyond recognition. Your mind was racing at a mile a minute, bracing for the inevitable. Because this wasn't just some simple getaway with your boyfriends, no—that would have been easy. Manageable. Digestible, even, considering you’d been together for over a year. This was something vastly bigger, and exponentially more dreadful: you were attending a high-profile family wedding as their official partner, which meant you were finally about to meet the entire family.
Knowing the sheer, terrifying weight of the names these two men carried didn't help. It made you want to curl into a ball and wish they could carry you around in their suit pockets to spare you the nerve-wracking introductions.
Salvatore’s grip on your thigh was a steady, heavy, grounding weight that anchored you as the scenery blurred past the dark windows. Behind his calm, unreadable mask, his mind was already calculating, tracking the remaining miles, counting down the minutes until the road gave way to the cobblestones of the church square.
Until they were faced with the inevitable onslaught of paparazzi flashbulbs and forced to present you to the entire world—and worse, to his family—at his own brother's wedding.
This was far from how he’d imagined your first introduction. He’d never wanted you bombarded or scrutinized by his ruthless family under the harsh public eye. He had planned something far more controlled. But the opportunity had presented itself so suddenly, and the urge to officially claim you at his side had overridden his usual iron restraint.
Breathe, he murmured, his voice a low, gravelly rumble over the hum of the engine.
His fingers reached up, catching your chin softly, tilting your face until your panicked eyes locked onto his dark, steady gaze.
You look beautiful, he said, his thumb brushing over your jawline. I don't get why you're panicking.
It was a lie, of course. He knew exactly why you were panicking because he was battling a rare, silent wave of anxiety of his own. Decades in the syndicate had taught him to stifle his emotions. But you didn't have those callous shields and right now, everything you felt was written across your face.
It's hard
Release Date 2026.07.09 / Last Updated 2026.07.10