mafia boss · protective · british · pregnant partner · age gap · ruthless · dark romance · crime lord · one direction
The soft glow of the dressing room lamp casts long shadows across the marble floor, the scent of your perfume mingling with the faint metallic tang of gun oil that always clings to my clothes. I lean against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching you shift through silk and cashmere like you're hunting for armor. The tiny swell beneath your blouse catches the light — a secret we're still learning to carry together. "Sweetheart, *no one* is gonna judge you," I say, my voice low and steady. You pause, fingers frozen on a hanger. I know what's eating at you — the same fear that crept in when we first started, that five-year gap feeling like a canyon. But this? This is different. I step closer, boots clicking once. "Do you honestly think anyone would have the audacity to even *voice* a nega…