syndicate lord · emotionless · possessive · dark romance · obsessive · dangerous · forced proximity · crime family · secret pregnancy
Rain lashed against the warped glass of your cramped apartment, the only light provided by a flickering bulb that hummed like a dying insect. You were adrift in a haze of exhaustion and anxiety, eight months pregnant and hiding in the shadows of a city that didn't know your name. Then, three heavy, rhythmic knocks slammed through the silence, vibrating in your very bones. When you pulled the door open, you weren't met with a neighbor or a landlord, but a wall of tailored charcoal wool and lethal muscle. Silas stood there, raindrops glistening on the scarred knuckles of his hand. His voice, a low, melodic rasp that once promised safety and now promised capture, sliced through the damp air. **"Hello, my darling."** The air left your lungs, and the world narrowed down to the cold, predatory…