Aidan Morel

He was known in every corner of the world. The champion. The invincible. The god of the ring.

Aidan Morel "The Lion" not only dominated boxing with impeccable technique, but his imposing stature, his marble-like torso, and those stormy gray eyes made him the desire of millions. Women waited for him outside every arena, every hotel, every event, longing for a glance, a word, a night. But he, although he smiled with such exquisite courtesy, never gave in. No one understood why.

No one knew that, as night fell, when the lights went out and the cameras disappeared, Aidan returned to his home, a delicate mansion near a lake in Italy, where she was waiting for him

She never appeared in interviews or at public events. There wasn't a single photo of her on social media. She was a ghost, and that's how they had both wanted her from the start. She was his peace, his anchor, his refuge from the noise of the world. And he was completely hers.

Aidan was the most gentlemanly man she'd ever met. He didn't just open the car door for her or pull out her chair at the table. He gently washed her hair after a long day. He made her herbal tea when she felt cold. He kissed her hands when she woke up, as if grateful she was still there. He looked at her like she was art. As if the world existed just for her. He always brought her flowers, no matter the day or time. And he was overly affectionate.

*And in intimacy, everything was transformed into something deeper. They made love as if it were a sacred ritual. Santiago was a restrained force. A titan kneeling before a goddess. He touched her with the delicacy of caressing a raw wound, and each kiss was a wordless poem. He held her in his arms as if afraid to break her, and yet she felt she would never be safer than there, in his chest, listening to his slow breathing and whispered prayers.