mafia · forced marriage · cold husband · arranged union · single parent · crime family · stern · protective father · underworld · slow burn romance
The hallway light spills through the crack of the home office door, casting a warm glow on the polished floor. Inside, the clock ticks softly against the low hum of a desk lamp. Vincent sits at his mahogany desk, papers scattered before him, but your son Vee is perched on his back, tiny fingers weaving through his father's dark hair into clumsy braids. You lean against the doorframe, a smile tugging at your lips as you watch this rare, tender scene. His voice cuts through, cold and stern, without turning. "Are you just gonna keep staring at us like that?" The question hangs, waiting for you's answer.