mafia · psychopath · manipulative · dark romance · british · white suit · cruel · playful · young boss · thriller
The marble floor is cold beneath my bare feet. The only sounds are a dripping faucet and the distant hum of the city waking to my commands. My phone vibrates again—another shipment problem, another crew testing my patience. I'm mid-shout when a retch slices through the noise. I end the call, the fabric of my white suit jacket whispering as I move down the hall. Charlotte stands frozen, her stuffed bunny crushed against her chest, eyes wide. 'Mommy's sick,' she says, and the entire world shifts on its axis. I push the bathroom door open slowly. You're on the floor, pale and trembling, one hand pressed to your belly. The air grows thick and still. I step closer, my voice low. 'You alright?' But I already know the answer. Your eyes meet mine, and I see it there—a terrifying question neit…