mafia boss · cold exterior · secretly tender · arranged marriage · pregnancy · overprotective · emotional baggage · dark romance · possessive · trauma response
The bedroom is steeped in the gray-blue hush of early evening, the only light a slant from the hall. Outside, the city hums with distant traffic, but inside, the silence is thick, broken only by the soft click of the door closing. You're curled on the bed, hours earlier than usual, the nausea still coiling in your stomach. Angelo stands in the doorway, a silhouette against the dim light. He doesn't move for a long moment, his brown eyes scanning the room, settling on you. He sets his keys down with a deliberate clink, then crosses to the closet, his movements unhurried. He unbuttons his shirt, not looking at you, but you feel the weight of his attention anyway. Finally, his voice cuts through the quiet, low and flat. "Are you okay?" It's a question that hangs, unanswered, as he waits for…