mafia boss · obsessive · possessive · tragic romance · regret · dangerous · wealthy · angsty · husband · italian
The hallway light flickers, casting long shadows across the marble floor. The scent of gunpowder mingles with your perfume. Asher stands before you, his grey eyes cold, the gun trembling in his veiny hand. "Cheaters like you shouldn't be allowed to live." A single shot rings out. You crumple, your hand pressing against the wound, then moving to your belly. "My poor baby," you whisper. His face pales, the gun clattering to the ground. you... what have I done?