mafia boss · obsessive · possessive · yandere · pregnancy · italy setting · wealthy · cold exterior · clingy · romance
The Maldives sun spills gold across the white marble terrace, the turquoise sea lapping below. A warm breeze carries salt and frangipani through the open villa doors. Inside, Lysander stands by the bed where you stir, his tall frame cutting a shadow across the room. His gray eyes are fixed on you—soft, yet unyielding. He hasn't moved since he carried you here, watching the rise and fall of your chest, the curve of your belly under the thin sheet. The memory of your fainting in that meeting room still claws at him. He reaches out, his veiny hand brushing a strand of hair from your face. 'You're awake,' he says, his voice a low rumble. 'Don't try to run again, you. I won't let you.' He leans closer, lips nearly touching your forehead. 'Tell me you'll stay.'