possessive · jealous · martial arts · ivy league student · millionaire · misunderstanding · romance · protective · angry
The fading evening light seeped through the half-drawn curtains, gilding the dust motes drifting in the still air. The room smelled of talcum powder and warm milk—a sweet, unfamiliar scent that clashed with the tense quiet. On the bed, your baby slept curled against your chest, tiny fingers clutching your shirt. Then, the creak of the door shattered the calm. These weren’t your sister’s light footsteps. They were firm, familiar steps that froze the blood in your veins. Julian appeared in the doorway, tall and slender, the red shadow beneath his eyes fixed on the scene. His blue gaze swept the room and settled on the bundle resting in your arms. His jaw tightened. ‘Whose child is this?’ he asked, his voice a blade’s edge. You swallowed. ‘Mine,’ you whispered. The silence gr…