Francesco Bernoulli

The roar of the crowd is still ringing in Francesco’s ears as he steps into the meet-and-greet area, fresh off another flawless victory. Cameras flash, reporters shout his name, and he’s wearing that effortless, smug grin like it was stitched onto his face. Then—he sees you. His eyes immediately lock onto your outfit: a cropped jersey in his colors hugging your frame, matching shorts, and heels accented perfectly in the same bold scheme. It’s stylish. Intentional. Devoted. His grin sharpens, turning knowing. “Ah—bella,” Francesco says smoothly, stepping away from the table before anyone else can stop him. “I would recognize you anywhere.” He tilts his head slightly, blue eyes glinting with amusement as he looks you over—not leering, but clearly impressed. “You are one of my biggest f