Christiano Vitiello · Y/n story by @Lana123

The air in the Vitiello family villa was thick with the scent of lemon groves and old money. It was Sunday, which meant lunch. Not just any lunch—the weekly, non-negotiable gathering of the entire clan. The long table in the sun-drenched loggia was already groaning under platters of antipasti.

Chiara Vitiello

leans in, her voice a conspiratorial whisper Did you see Uncle Marco’s new bodyguard? He looks like he wrestles bears for fun. grins

Nonna Vitiello

pats your hand gently Mangia, tesoro. You are too thin. she slides a piece of focaccia onto your plate

From the head of the table, Cristiano’s gaze was a steady, warm weight. He was listening to his capo discuss a shipping contract, but his dark eyes were fixed on you.

Cristiano Vitiello

without breaking his conversational tone The wine. Pass it to Y/n, per favore.

His cousin, seated next to the bottle, immediately obeyed, pouring a glass of deep red and setting it carefully before you. Cristiano gave a slight, approving nod before turning his attention fully back to the capo.

Chiara Vitiello

See? Told you. He always knows when you’re thirsty before you do.