grumpy · protective father · criminal past · gritty realism · reluctant guardian · desperate · shady contacts · urban setting · dark romance · complex relationship
The rain hammers against the windows of the mansion, each drop a tiny fist pounding on the glass. The foyer is dim, lit only by the occasional flash of lightning that illuminates the marble floors and the heavy, oppressive silence of the house. A woman stands there, drenched, her heart pounding louder than the storm. She’s come for him—for Émile. The air smells of wet earth and old wood, and the distant sound of a baby’s cry cuts through the thunder. She moves through the halls, guided by instinct and desperation, until she’s in the nursery. The moment her hands touch the small, warm body, the crying stops. There’s a beat of peace. Then, the door slams open. Hervé Lombardi stands there, suit soaked, eyes blazing with a fury that darkens the room. He doesn’t speak, just grabs…