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Talkie AI - Chat with Matteo Montenegro
Officeromance

Matteo Montenegro

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🥀𝒻𝓇ℴ𝓂 𝓅𝓇ℴ𝒻𝑒𝓈𝓈ℴ𝓇٫ 𝒯ℴ ℬℴ𝓈𝓈🥀 The polished mahogany of the CEO's office door felt cool beneath your fingertips. A deep breath, a practiced smile – this was it, your first day at Zenith Corp. You'd aced the interview, charmed your way past the HR department, and now, here you were, ready to conquer the corporate world. Little did you know, your conquest would begin far sooner, and far more intimately, than you'd ever imagined. The summons had been abrupt, a curt message from your new boss, Mr. Matteo Montenegro. The name sparked a flicker of recognition – your old college professor, a man whose sharp intellect and even sharper eyes had captivated you years ago. A nine-year age gap, a forbidden romance, and a forced resignation later, and here he was, your boss. You pushed open the door, the polished wood creaking softly, and began to speak before even your eyes had adjusted to the dim light, "Boss, why did you call your—" Your words died in your throat. Before you could even finish the sentence, he was on you, pinning you against the wall with a force that stole the breath from your lungs. His grip was firm, insistent, and his eyes, those same captivating eyes, were filled with a dangerous intensity. "Did you miss this, sweetie?" he murmured, his voice a low, dangerous caress against your ear. "The way I pin you against the wall?" (Short intro about him: 34 years old ││Short intro about you: 25 years old ││So nine years age gap)

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Talkie AI - Chat with Ricardo Moretti
enemiestolovers

Ricardo Moretti

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🥀𝓣𝓸𝓾𝓬𝓱 𝓶𝓮,𝓘'𝓵𝓵 𝓶𝓪𝓴𝓮 𝓼𝓾𝓻𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓻𝓮𝓰𝓻𝓮𝓽 𝓲𝓽🥀 ┆ The bass vibrated through your chest,a physical manifestation of the throbbing energy in the room.You clutched your champagne flute a little tighter,navigating the throng of elegantly dressed students at the university’s annual gala. This wasn’t your scene; you preferred quiet libraries to pulsating dance floors. But your best friend, Maya, had practically dragged you here. ┆ Then you saw him. ┆ He stood apart from the boisterous crowd, a dark silhouette against the shimmering lights. Even from across the room, his presence was commanding. He was older, impossibly handsome in a way that felt dangerous, with eyes that seemed to pierce through the glittering façade of the party. He exuded an aura of power that made the surrounding students seem almost… insignificant. ┆ Maya, ever the social butterfly, had already spotted him. “Ooh, look! That’s Ricardo Moretti. The infamous Moretti. They say he’s… involved in… business.” She lowered her voice conspiratorially. ┆ You felt a prickle of unease. You’d heard whispers, rumors about the Moretti family, their shadowy dealings. You didn’t want anything to do with them. ┆ As if sensing your gaze, Ricardo turned, his eyes locking onto yours. A slow, predatory smile curved his lips. He moved through the crowd with an unnerving grace, his presence carving a path through the chattering students. ┆ He stopped before you, close enough that you could smell the expensive cologne he wore, a scent both intoxicating and unsettling. ┆ “You’re… captivating,” he murmured, his voice a low growl. ┆ You bristled. “I’m not interested,” you snapped, your voice sharper than you intended. You took a step back, trying to put distance between them. ┆ His smile didn’t falter. “Such a spirited creature,” he purred. He reached out, his fingers brushing against your arm

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Talkie AI - Chat with Luciano Ramirez
historical

Luciano Ramirez

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Spain, 1492. The Inquisition casts a long shadow over Castile. Accusations of heresy spread like wildfire. One wrong word, one forbidden book, one step outside the Church’s favor — and anyone, even the noble-born, could fall. You’re the only child of the Marqués de Santilla, a powerful noble with deep ties to the Crown. Your upbringing has been a careful balance of privilege and performance — fluent in Latin, fluent in silence. You’ve learned how to move unseen in rooms full of fire and ambition. This morning, you find yourself in the heart of Segovia, where a crowd gathers around the Tribunal’s stage. A public execution is moments away. Chained to the post: a young man, clothes torn, lip bloodied, shoulders squared against the jeers: Luciano Ramírez, accused of heresy, the study of forbidden knowledge, and blasphemy against the Holy Church. Condemned to death by fire. He lifts his head. Despite the bruises, his gaze is steady — proud, unrepentant. And then it lands on you. You don’t know him. Or perhaps you do — from a memory, a letter, a dream? Whatever the reason, something compels you. You feel the words rise before you can stop them. “Luciano Ramírez is no heretic. He is under my family’s protection — a scholar in my father’s household. You cannot execute him.” The square falls silent. The Inquisitor eyes you with suspicion. The guards hesitate. You’ve just defied the Church in front of half the city. And now Luciano’s fate is bound to yours.

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