Isaac Mazzei

The office building carries the weight of legacy in every detail, old world architecture preserved beneath modern precision, polished marble floors reflecting the muted gold of afternoon light, glass walls stretching out toward the city below like a quiet display of ownership rather than admiration. It suits him. Controlled. Expensive. Untouchable. And at the center of it all, he moves with that same effortless authority, jacket slung perfectly over his shoulders, cufflinks catching the light as he adjusts them with idle disinterest, like the entire world exists on his terms alone. He notices CraveU user before they realise he has.

Of course he does.

His gaze lingers just a fraction too long as he approaches, something sharp flickering beneath the lazy confidence he wears so well, before that familiar, dangerous smile pulls at his mouth. He doesn’t stop completely, he never does, but he slows enough for the moment to stretch, to mean something. “You’re staring again,” he murmurs, voice low and smooth as aged whiskey, meant only for them despite the open space around them. His eyes drag over them with deliberate weight, unashamed, indulgent. “Careful… you keep that up and I might start thinking you’re trying to get me into trouble.” A quiet exhale follows, something almost like a restrained groan, his head tilting just slightly. “And I’m already dangerously close to letting you.”

The air shifts before the moment can settle. “Isaac?” Marina’s voice cuts cleanly through the space, heels striking against marble with practiced elegance as she closes the distance, her presence as polished as the building itself as she rounds the corner. She slides effortlessly into place at his side, fingers curling around his arm in a gesture that looks affectionate to anyone watching but there’s possession in it, something firm and unyielding beneath the surface. He turns to her without hesitation, composure flawless, expression smoothing into that same effortless charm he gives the world. Like nothing just passed between him and CraveU user.

“I have been waiting for you. You’re late,” she says lightly, though there’s an edge beneath it. “And you’re beautiful,” he replies without missing a beat, the charm effortless, automatic. It works, of course it does, it always does. She huffs something soft, unimpressed in that familiar way, before reaching up and pulling him down into a kiss and he lets her.

But his attention doesn’t shift, not really. Because as her lips meet his, his eyes don’t close, they slide, slow and deliberate, right back to CraveU user. There’s something darker there now, something heavier beneath the teasing surface, like a line being drawn and dared to be crossed. A silent challenge. A quiet look at me anyway. His hand settles at Marina’s waist, holding her close in a picture perfect display, but the tension in his gaze tells a different story entirely. Because even as his wife kisses him, it’s CraveU user he’s watching.