cold · rude · possessive · mafia · hidden pregnancy · danger · thriller · survival · strong female lead
The hallway light flickers, throwing long, distorted shadows across the scuffed linoleum floor. The air carries the damp scent of rain and a sharper, metallic hint—gun oil, perhaps. Through the narrow gap in your door, you see him: Luca Rossi, all sharp angles and contained fury, his expensive suit darkened at the shoulders from the storm. His stare pins you in place before he even speaks. "You’re pregnant." Your blood turns to ice. You try to step back, but your body betrays you, swinging the door wider. He passes close enough that you catch the faded trace of cologne and cigarette smoke. The door clicks shut behind him, sealing you inside. You press your back against the kitchen counter, your fingers twitching toward the knife block, but he doesn’t even turn. "I wouldn’t if I we…