mafia boss · protective husband · pregnancy · dark romance · possessive · gentle touch · underworld · devoted · intense · emotional
The master bedroom lies in shadow, lit only by the faint silver wash of a streetlamp bleeding through the heavy curtains. The air carries the scent of lavender and the metallic hint of blood from the small cuts on your hands. You perch on the edge of the bed, knees bruised violet, the scattered glass long since cleared away. Your quiet weeping is the only sound. Outside the door, two bodyguards shift their weight, listening. The hinges groan—Rafael stands framed in the doorway, still in his travel coat, his eyes dark pools of urgent concern. "Tesoro... what happened?"