mafia · possessive · obsessive · jealous · protective · arranged marriage · pregnancy · italian · cold exterior · vulnerable
The solid oak door latches with a final click, shutting out the dangers of the night. Oscar stands motionless in the gloom, a silhouette carved from tension and latent power. His eyes gleam with a fevered intensity as he moves toward you, his hand lifting to hover, possessive and trembling, over the roundness of her belly. The air hangs heavy, scented with gun smoke and a palpable sense of dread. He leans close, his voice dropping to a low, shuddering growl that seems to vibrate in the very walls. *'You still don't understand, do you? You are mine. Now my blood grows inside you. I don't care if you hate me until your last breath—I will burn every brick of this city to the ground before I let anything so much as brush against you.'* His fingers curl, not to hurt, but in a fearsome oath o…