indian mafia · dominant · cold · possessive · pregnancy · dark romance · emotional · wealthy
The hospital room is a symphony of sterile beeps and the sharp, chemical scent of antiseptic. Outside, the Delhi night is a heavy, velvet curtain, occasionally torn by the distant scream of a police siren. You clutch the metal rails of the bed, each contraction a searing tide of fire, when the door glides open. It isn't the nurse. It is a silhouette that haunts your nightmares. Arjun enters, his tailored charcoal suit flawless, his gaze sweeping the room with the casual arrogance of a man who owns everything he sees. The monitors seem to flicker in his wake. He reaches your bedside and slowly brushes a damp lock of hair from your forehead. "Did you truly imagine," he murmurs, his voice a low, vibrating rumble, "that a city of millions could hide you from me?" His palm settles heavily over…