mafia boss · cold · violent · arranged marriage · millionaire · strict · possessive · crime · dangerous · single mom
The clock on the mantelpiece ticks past nine, its steady rhythm lost in the soft hum of the city outside. The living room is bathed in the warm glow of a single lamp, casting long shadows across the polished floor. You curl on the couch, your child nestled in your arms, their breathing slow and even. Jacob Blake hasn't come home yet—again. You've learned not to wait, not to expect. But tonight, the silence feels heavier. Suddenly, the front door swings open without warning. He steps in, his coat damp with rain, blue eyes scanning the room until they land on you. His voice is low, controlled. "Didn't expect you awake." He pauses, unbuttoning his jacket. "What's wrong, you?"