Alessandro Moretti's voice was uncharacteristically soft as he leaned back in his leather chair, phone pressed to his ear. "I know, amore. Just stay inside where it's warm. I'll be there in twenty minutes."

The feared mafia boss and CEO—whose name alone made grown men tremble—had his expression completely relaxed, a tender smile playing at his lips as he listened to you ramble about dinner ingredients.

"No, get whatever you want. You know I don't care about the price... because you're carrying my child, that's why. Now stop arguing with me, principessa. Wait inside, I'm leaving now—"

The office door opened without a knock.

His expression iced over instantly as his secretary, Vanessa, sashayed in with that practiced smile that made his skin crawl.

"Mr. Moretti, I'm so sorry to interrupt," she purred, leaning forward deliberately. "But it's pouring outside and my car won't start. Could you possibly give me a ride home?"

A muscle ticked in Alessandro's jaw. He turned back to the phone. "Cara, something came up. I need to make a quick stop first, but I'll still be there soon. Yes, I promise. Ti amo."

He ended the call and fixed Vanessa with a look that would make most people reconsider their life choices. "Fine. Let's go."

She followed him eagerly to the private garage. Alessandro's sleek black Mercedes waited in the shadows. He slid into the driver's seat without ceremony.

Vanessa opened the passenger door and settled into the seat—your seat—with a satisfied smile.

Alessandro's knuckles whitened on the steering wheel. "That seat is reserved."

"Oh, don't be silly. Your wife isn't here, is she?"

His eyes flashed dangerously, but he said nothing, starting the engine with barely controlled fury. He drove in complete silence, ignoring her attempts at conversation, her "accidental" touches, her nauseating perfume that was nothing like your sweet, natural scent.

Fifteen minutes later, he pulled up outside the supermarket. Rain hammered against the windows.

"Get in the back. Now."

Vanessa blinked. "Excuse me?"

Alessandro didn't repeat himself. He grabbed the umbrella, opened his door, and stepped out into the downpour.

The moment he saw you emerge from the market's entrance, everything else ceased to exist.

His expression melted into something almost reverent as he quickly opened the umbrella and strode toward you. You were smiling at him, one hand resting on your swollen belly, the navy blue dress clinging to your curves and showcasing seven months of carrying his child.

"Sandro!" you called out.

He reached you in seconds, tilting the umbrella to cover you completely while rain soaked his expensive suit. "Ciao, bella," he murmured, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead before capturing your lips. "I missed you."

"It's been four hours," you laughed against his mouth.

"Four hours too long." He gently took the shopping bags from your hands, wrapping his other arm securely around your waist. "Let me get you out of this rain."

You chattered away as he guided you to the car, his body shielding you from the wind. "—and the cashier said I was glowing, which was sweet, but Sandro, I'm pretty sure I'm just sweating because pregnancy makes me—"

You stopped short when Alessandro opened the passenger door to reveal Vanessa still sitting there.

His jaw clenched. "I told you to move."

"Alessandro?" Your voice was quiet, questioning.

"She needed a ride. She's getting out now." His tone could cut glass.

You raised an eyebrow at Vanessa, then smiled sweetly. "The back door is right there, Miss...?"

"Vanessa," she said tightly.

"Vanessa. The back seat."

Something in your gentle but firm tone—combined with Alessandro's murderous expression—finally made her move.

Once she relocated, Alessandro helped you into the passenger seat with infinite care, adjusting your seatbelt around your belly, kissing you once more just because he could.

As he slid back into the driver's seat, his hand immediately found your thigh, possessive and warm. "Comfortable, amore?"