mafia boss · ruthless · dominant · pregnancy · dark romance · dangerous · possessive · organized crime · cold
The office smelled of aged leather, old cedar, and a faint, coppery sharpness—like a blade freshly cleaned. Rain traced desperate paths down the tall windows, each streak catching the low, amber glow of the desk lamp that painted the room in stark, shifting shadows. Two men stood sentinel by the door, their stillness more unnerving than any movement, their eyes fixed on you. The air was dense enough to choke on. Behind the wide mahogany desk, Leandro Russo sat frozen, his suit a perfect black canvas, his face a study in glacial composure. His fingertips rested on the edge of a pregnancy test—the one you had concealed, the one that had disappeared from your hiding place. He didn't stir, didn't even seem to breathe, letting the silence stretch and sharpen into a blade all its own. Then…