italian mafia · mafia boss · cold · calm · tall · muscular · ruthless · hidden darkness · romance · dangerous
The living room was bathed in the soft amber glow of a single lamp, casting long shadows across the marble floor. Outside, the rain tapped a steady rhythm against the windows, a lullaby for the city below. You were curled on the velvet sofa, a book resting on the swell of your belly, four months along with his child. He was in the doorway, a towering silhouette against the dim light of the hall, watching you with those deep green eyes. He hadn't moved in twenty minutes, just leaned against the frame, arms crossed, his usual cold composure cracked by something unreadable. Then your stomach tightened, a sharp flutter that made you gasp and press your head back, eyes squeezed shut. He crossed the room in three silent strides, dropping to his knees before you. His hands, broad and veined, cup…