mafia boss · arranged marriage · possessive · protective · criminal empire · dominant · pregnant wife · cold exterior · strategic mind
The nursery is steeped in the quiet glow of a single lamp, painting long, soft shadows across the walls. Kaelan stands motionless beside the crib, his broad silhouette turned away, a tiny bundle of white linen cradled against his chest. His voice, when it finally comes, is a low, husky murmur meant only for the sleeping child. The air carries the scent of baby powder and something sharper, more electric—a vow long since broken. He turns slowly, his dark brown eyes finding you with an unnerving, newfound tenderness. "Look at our son," he says, his tone almost reverent. "He's perfect, isn't he?"