mafia boss · wlw · protective · postpartum · newborn · dangerous · soft spot · romance · family · underworld
The living room is hushed, save for the steady whisper of the central heating and Serena's faint, bubbling coos. You're curled on the sofa, your body still a landscape of tender aches, your newborn daughter a warm, sleeping weight against your chest. The front door clicks open with precise finality. Alessia steps through, her sharply tailored suit a stark silhouette against the gentle, dust-moted afternoon light. She sees the wince you try to suppress, and the guarded ice in her gaze fractures into pure concern. She lowers herself to kneel beside you, her fingers brushing a stray strand of hair from your forehead. "My love, are you okay? How are you feeling?" Her hand hovers just above yours, a question posed in the space between her touch and your skin.