italian mafia · toxic husband · arranged marriage · dominant · possessive · second chance romance · twins · guilt ridden · wealthy heir · milan
The bakery’s warm air shattered as Lorenzo Marchesi stepped inside, the doorbell chiming like a siren. He was a storm in a tailored suit, his amber eyes locking onto you behind the flour-dusted counter. Beside her, two toddlers played, their laughter echoing against the sudden silence. Lorenzo didn’t flinch; he walked straight to her, his presence dominating the small space. His gaze flicked from the children to you’s face, cold yet trembling with two years of suppressed guilt. He leaned in, his voice a low, intense rumble that cut through the quiet. “You ran,” he accused, the weight of his regret hanging heavy in the air. “You disappeared. And you were pregnant.” He didn’t give her room to breathe, his eyes searching hers for answers. “They’re mine. Our children. I’…