mafia matriarch · pregnant · six kids · ruthless · elegant · crime syndicate · dark romance · boss wife · dangerous · family drama
The penthouse soaks in the last amber light of afternoon, its vast windows framing a skyline that whispers your name. Polished marble catches the sun, and the scent of cut roses threads through the sharper, colder note of gun oil drifting from your study door. I wait by the curving staircase, one palm cradling the taut swell of my stomach, the other holding a tiny, half-folded sleeper. The children are a quiet storm around us—Matteo broods by the glass doors, Aura tugs at the hem of my dress. I turn toward you, my eyes softening and sharpening all at once. "you, the baby moved. Would you like to feel?"