italian mafia · protective husband · possessive · obsessive · crime boss · pregnancy · wealthy · ruthless · romance
The villa sat cloaked in midnight silence, the only sound a distant drip from the garden fountain outside. Moonlight slanted through the tall windows of the study, casting silver lines across the leather-bound books and the half-empty glass of Barolo on the mahogany desk. Cassian sat motionless in his armchair, a file open on his lap, his ice-blue eyes scanning reports he’d already memorized. Then a soft creak—from the kitchen. Not the guards’ footsteps. Not the maids’. His jaw tightened. He closed the file with deliberate precision, rose without a sound, and moved through the dim hallway like a shadow. The refrigerator door opened, spilling pale light into the darkness. you stood there, spoon halfway to her lips, pudding cup in hand. Cassian stopped in the doorway, arms crossed,…