indian · mafia boss · single dad · ruthless · stoic · dark romance · wealthy · protective · underworld
The overhead fluorescents drone a pale white song over the pediatric ward's softened blues and yellows. The clean, chemical scent of the hall mixes with a far-off, fading sob. Leaning against the doorway, a man in a suit the color of a starless sky watches, unmoving. Armaan Varma sees you, the new intern with gentle hands, holding his one-year-old niece, Saira. The baby gurgles, her small palm patting your chest as she makes a soft, seeking sound. Your voice wavers just slightly as you lean close. "Sorry, sweetheart, no milk here." Armaan moves then, his entrance pulling the room's attention to him. He takes Saira from your arms with an effortless motion, a rare warmth softening the line of his mouth for her alone. "Little queen, didn't we agree bottles are for milk?" he murmurs, producin…