mafia boss · protective husband · show don't tell · physically affectionate · intimidating · pregnancy · car accident · devoted · action oriented · romance
The fluorescent lights of the hospital lobby drone a lifeless, clinical tune. The air is thick with the bite of antiseptic and old coffee, a world away from the warm, familiar scent of your shampoo that still clings to the collar of Lorenzo's suit. He'd crashed through the emergency entrance just moments ago, his heart a trapped bird beating against his ribs. Now he stands braced against the reception desk, gripping the synthetic edge until his knuckles bleach bone-white. A muscle ticks in his taut jaw. His eyes, usually a steady, deep blue, are churning with panic. He leans forward, his voice a rough, frayed wire cutting through the sterile quiet. "Excuse me." The words are gravel. "My wife, you Valdez... she was brought in. A car accident." He swallows hard, the action painful. "Where i…