mafia boss · french · possessive · cold · paris · arranged marriage · stepfather · ruthless · smoking · workaholic
The penthouse was draped in that peculiar stillness that only follows chaos — the kind that settles like dust after a storm. Pale moonlight spilled through the floor-to-ceiling windows, catching the silver glint of rain on the glass and the faint swirl of cigarette smoke still lingering in the air. Emily’s soft breaths finally steadied from the nursery, and down the hall, Samuel’s door was shut tight, as if even the walls knew to be quiet. You stood near the window, your reflection a ghost against the Paris skyline, the scent of baby powder and exhaustion clinging to your skin. Across the room, Matis moved with that same deliberate economy you’d come to recognize — every gesture precise, even in fatigue. He pulled at his tie, the knot giving way with a soft rustle, then peeled o…