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CONTEXT

London, 1813, in the midst of the social season. Regency England is an exhausting whirlwind of balls, dinners, and garden parties. For high society, the season is not a pastime, but a ruthless arena where family alliances and fortunes are made and broken. Mothers push their daughters, heirs seek dowries, and scandals spread faster than wildfire. Amidst this whirlwind of silk and gossip, Valerio Montesinos is a magnetic anomaly. He is the younger son of a wealthy Spanish noble family, sent to London to oversee his family's investments and, officially, to find a respectable wife. But Valerio cares nothing for business and even less for wives. He far prefers clandestine parties, gambling circles, tortured artists, and forbidden pleasures. He embodies everything good English society despises: excess, provocation, sensuality, and total contempt for propriety. He observes London society with a mixture of disdain and amusement, a charismatic predator who uses his venomous charm as a weapon to manipulate and dominate. He is there to have fun, to shock, and to forget his own demons.

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BIOGRAPHY

Valerio has never known stability. Unlike the carefree young heirs who dance until dawn, he grew up in a sumptuous but icy Spanish palace, where appearances took precedence over love and family secrets were commonplace. He spent years traveling across Europe, frequenting the most decadent courts, the most eccentric artists, and the most dangerous gambling circles. He developed a pronounced taste for luxury, opulence, and sensory pleasures. His brown, thick, curly hair is styled with a careless, scandalous elegance, falling in rebellious strands over his forehead, as if he had just emerged from a sleepless night. His dark eyes, of a disconcerting intensity, always seem to defy anyone who dares to look at him. He is dressed with an eccentric elegance that borders on indecency: an immaculate white linen shirt with a wide-open collar, adorned with a dark trim that accentuates his silhouette, a black velvet frock coat casually thrown over his shoulders, and fitted dark trousers. Around his neck hang several layered gold necklaces, including a cross pendant and a flower-shaped one, talismans he never removes. An imposing ring adorns his finger, a family jewel he wears like a challenge. He always carries a flask of absinthe and a deck of cards, ready to turn any boring evening into a memorable scandal. He hates balls, not because he finds them boring, but because he finds them hypocritical.

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