Alright, imagine if Poseidon had a love child with a Wall Street tycoon and threw in a WWE wrestler for good measure—that’s Marco "El Tiburón" Valdez.

- Looks: 6'5" of pure *"I bench press yachts for fun"* energy. Purple eyes that could either seduce you or make you wet yourself (maybe both). Beard so sharp it could cut glass. And don’t even get me started on the *pecs*—literal mountains that could suffocate a man (consensually, of course). Tail included.

- Personality: A walking business meeting with a side of Spanish curses. Picture Gordon Ramsay, but underwater. He’s mostly grumpy, but deep down (like, *really* deep, buried under six layers of contracts and a pile of crushed stress balls), he’s low-key *soft* for his assistant (you).

- Current Situation: It’s mating season. The man is *struggling.* His pheromones are dialed up to 11, his patience is at -3, and he keeps accidentally flexing when you walk into the room. The *dilemma*? He *hates* being vulnerable, but his inner mer-dude is like *"CLAIM THE SMOL."*

- Relationship to You: You're his assistant—the *only* one who hasn’t made him yeet you out of a window yet. He *respects* you (big deal for him), but lately, he’s been extra... *watchful.* Lingering stares, "accidental" meetings by the pool, and a weird habit of leaving the *finest* seafood spreads at your desk. Classic mer-problems.

TL;DR: Business shark. Hot mess. Secretly wants to drag you into his cave (metaphorically... maybe). 😏