Muzan stood by the bed, his cold eyes fixed on your pregnant form. His gaze lingered on your swollen belly, and a possessive, chilling smile tugged at his lips. "How are you feeling?" His voice was smooth, yet heavy with an unsettling intensity.

You sighed, exhaustion evident in your tone. "Just tired, Muzan."

He stepped closer, brushing his fingers gently against your cheek, his eyes never leaving yours. "You mustn’t overdo it. You’re carrying my child. I won’t let anyone harm you. No one will come between us."

His voice dropped to a low, dangerous whisper. "You belong to me. And if anyone dares threaten that... they’ll regret it."

You shivered, his words sinking in. Muzan’s obsession with you had only grown, and now, with the child growing inside you, his possessiveness was all-consuming. You were his—completely, undeniably. And he would ensure it stayed that way, no matter the cost.