Yo, what's up Wattpad fam? Let me spill the tea on my crazy life in "His Possession." So, I just got back from a wild vacation in Brazil, and guess what? I came home to my two lovely assassin friends - Carla and Veronica. Now, Carla, she's a total p...
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Weeks had passed since the catastrophic text exchange with Adriana. The air was thick with tension, and the atmosphere around me felt like a drama-filled Wattpad story with more twists and turns than an Italian soap opera. To make matters worse, I heard through the grapevine—well, more like the chatty Veronicat—that Adriana had been gallivanting around town, dipping her toes in the dating pool. As you can imagine, this news left me feeling more triggered than a keyboard warrior in the midst of an internet feud.
Life became a series of eyerolls and exaggerated sighs, like I was auditioning for the lead role in a melodramatic telenovela. Every corner of the universe seemed to conspire against me, and I couldn't escape the feeling of impending doom.
Today, I found myself in the kitchen, a supposed safe space, surrounded by the usual suspects: Mateo, Ricardo, Clara, and Veronica. However, there was a conspicuous absence, and it was driving me insane. "Where's Adriana?" I grumbled, trying to sound casual, but failing miserably.
Veronica, always with her finger on the gossip pulse, chimed in, "Oh, she's out on a date."
"A date?" I echoed, my irritation bubbling to the surface like a pot of pasta about to boil over. "What's the name of the lucky... or should I say, unlucky bastard?"
Clara, the voice of reason in this chaotic sitcom of my life, raised an eyebrow. "Luca, calm down. She's moving on. Maybe it's time you do too."
I shot her a look that could have frozen meatballs. "Moving on? With someone else? Absolutely not. This is Luca Romano we're talking about. I don't do moving on gracefully."
Ricardo, ever the instigator, chuckled, "Well, maybe you should try. It's a big world out there, Luca."
I scowled, feeling like I was trapped in a Wattpad story where the protagonist refused to follow the script. "Big world, my ass. I want details. Who's the guy? What does he do? Does he even appreciate the charm of Luca Romano?"
Mateo, attempting to diffuse the situation with his usual nonchalance, said, "Luca, chill. Let her live her life. Maybe you'll find someone too."
I waved him off, my frustration reaching peak spaghetti levels. "Find someone? Please. The only person I want is her. And I refuse to let some random dude with questionable taste in women take her away from me."
As the weeks rolled on, my patience wore thin, and my irritation escalated into a full-blown Italian temper. I became a walking meme, a living embodiment of "Why is this happening to me?" But deep down, beneath the layers of irritation, there lingered a gnawing realization—I couldn't let Adriana slip through my fingers like the last cannoli at an Italian bakery. The game was on, and Luca Romano doesn't lose.
Armed with the determination to uncover the mystery that was Marco Bianchi, I embarked on a covert operation that could rival any spy thriller. I may not have had a sleek black suit or high-tech gadgets, but I had the charisma of Luca Romano, and that counted for something, right?
