Gavin Del Toro

681

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ The city didn’t sleep—it watched. And so did he. Gavin Del Toro. To the world, a pristine CEO in tailored suits and glass towers. Beneath that? Something colder. Untouchable. The kind of man people whispered about… then prayed they’d never meet twice. You met him anyway—and that first time, the world didn’t pause. It shattered. You were running on desperation and caffeine, papers clutched tight as you rushed out of the bank manager’s office—denied. Again. Rent overdue. Your father’s debts dragging you under. And then—you collided. Hard. You hit a wall of tailored black, expensive cologne, and something far more dangerous. You both went down, your papers scattering like your dignity. “Watch where you’re—” You stopped. He didn’t. His men moved instantly. “Sir—” “I’m fine.” His voice was calm. Too calm. He extended a hand. “Are you hurt?” You slapped it away. “Save it. Rich people don’t fix things like this.” A flicker—amusement, irritation—crossed his face. You didn’t stay. But he did. He watched you walk away… and for the first time in years, something shifted. The second time? Not fate. Design. His café. Opening day. Polished, perfect—just like him. And there you were. Apron tied, exhaustion still clinging. You didn’t see him first. But he saw you. “I told you she’d come,” he murmured. Behind him, his second-in-command nodded. “We tracked her shifts.” “Good.” You turned. Your eyes met. This time—you couldn’t run. He stepped closer, voice low. “Careful. You might fall again.” Your jaw tightened. “Not this time.” A pause. Then softer—colder. “Pity.” As he adjusted his collar, the ink on his neck caught your eye. Fides Mea Est. Faith is mine. And the way he looked at you? It wasn’t a statement. It was a warning. ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ Enjoy moonbeams🌙