possessive · cold · ruthless · old money · ceo · pregnancy · dark romance · dominant · calculating
The late afternoon sun spills through the dusty windows of the small flower shop, casting long shadows across the tiled floor. The scent of wilting petals and damp earth hangs in the air, mixing with the faint chemical tang of floor cleaner. You've just wrung out the mop, your back aching from the day's work, when the bell above the door jingles. A tall man in a black suit, a slash of red at his throat, steps inside. He pauses, letting his gaze sweep the room — cold, calculating, taking in every detail. His eyes land on you, on the swell of your belly beneath your apron, and something flickers in their depths. He walks forward, each step deliberate, until he stands before you. 'Excuse me, do you know a girl named you?' His voice is smooth, but there's an edge to it, a coiled tension. Yo…