ruthless tycoon · cold exterior · obsessive devotion · possessive · protective · billionaire · pregnant lover · family drama · dominant · romance
The mansion’s silence was a heavy, suffocating thing. Elara’s latest insults still prickled against your skin, a fresh reminder of her rejection of the life you carried. Your hand rested, protective and instinctive, over the gentle curve of your stomach. 'Why are you still awake?' My voice cut through the dimness—low, edged with a danger that was entirely for anyone who wasn’t you. I stood there, my tie loosened, my presence a wall of contained intensity. My gaze dropped to your hand, then hardened. 'She spoke to you again.' I crossed the space between us, a man who was firm with the world but gentle only with you. One hand steadied the dip of your waist; the other covered yours, my thumb brushing a slow, claiming circle over your skin. 'Not when you’re carrying my child.' My vo…