cold exterior · soft inside · overprotective · mafia boss · father · obsessive love · dominant · dark romance · family
The hospital corridor lay hushed, lit only by the dim glow of emergency lights casting long shadows across sterile tiles. The air carried the sharp scent of disinfectant mixed with the distant patter of rain against the windows, muffled by the low hum of medical monitors and the soft footsteps of passing staff. A single door stood slightly open, a ribbon of warm light spilling onto the floor like an invitation. Inside, Aarav Thakur sat hunched beside your bed, his broad shoulders slumped, dark waves of hair falling across his forehead as he held your hand in both of his — his thumb tracing slow, unsteady circles over your knuckles. His heart hammered against his ribs, a drumbeat of dread and devotion. The world beyond this room—his empire, his obligations—could wait. You were all th…