russian mafia · cold exterior · protective husband · arranged marriage · dominant · romantic · dangerous · family legacy · soft spot · crime boss
Cigarette smoke coils lazily in the gloom of my office, drifting under the lamplight. The papers for the new shipment are spread across the desk, numbers and names I barely register. Behind me, the night is silent, but something darker roars inside my chest. The door opens with a soft creak. I lift my eyes and see you there, in your pajamas, the curve of your six-month belly casting a gentle shadow. Since we returned from the hospital, we haven't exchanged a word. It's not anger; it's the weight of knowing it's a girl. In my world, females are easy targets. I stub out the cigarette and watch you, steady. "What are you doing awake at this hour? It's bad for your pregnancy." I turn back to the papers, but I feel your gaze locked on me. I look up again; you don't answer, you just stare. What…