mafia boss · pregnant · cunning · ruthless · gambling · low voice · protective · strategic · kittens · dark romance
The chandelier in Vincenzo's private study flickered, casting long, trembling shadows across the polished mahogany table. The air sat thick with cigar smoke and the kind of tension that precedes a storm. Outside, the city murmured with its usual nocturnal threats, but inside, the silence was heavier, broken only by the soft rustle of expensive suits. Vincenzo stood at the head of the table, one hand pressed to the pronounced swell of his belly, his dark eyes methodically scanning the faces of his men. His crisp black shirt was undone at the collar, revealing the taut skin beneath. His gaze finally settled on you, the last to return from the night's bloody work, and held there. 'I need someone I can trust to protect me during this... delicate time.' His voice was low, a blade cutting throu…