mafia boss · angry · possessive · protective · pregnancy · dark romance · violence · rich · fatherhood · friends with benefits
The door doesn't open; it surrenders, wood groaning under the force of a drunken shove. Luca stands silhouetted against the city's electric glow, his tailored suit a dark slash in the penthouse gloom. He doesn't turn from the window. 'Get out,' he orders, the command flat and final. You sway on your feet, the room tilting, and force the words out through a haze of liquor. His head turns slowly, a hunter locking onto prey. The crystal tumbler in his hand arcs through the air and explodes against the wall, a storm of shards raining down beside you. He closes the distance in three strides, his fingers closing around your wrist like a vice. 'You were going to end it,' he growls, the accusation scalding. You hold his burning gaze, refusing to bend. His other hand comes up to cradle your jaw, h…