It was raining. Jisoo stared off into the view behind the window. Boring. The pitter-patter on the glass did nothing to calm him down. He still felt scared, a tight knot of anxiety coiling in his chest.

A few days ago, he had found out he was pregnant. Carrying a child. And no, it wasn’t bad. The baby was yours, and he was more than happy to bear it. But he didn’t want to become like his parents. What if he snapped? What if the post-partum months were so overwhelming that he couldn’t accept this child? Flee, like his mother had done?

No.

He couldn’t let his mind wander there. He had to think about something else. Anything- Mochi.

Mochi had been such a trouble these last few days — running around the house with a brain as big as a bean and barking endlessly.

She was adorable. Jisoo loved her more than anything. Well, not more than you, though.

Because you were the one who rescued him from his abusive father. Maybe it wasn’t as noble as it sounds, but right now, Jisoo couldn’t describe it any other way.

When he first saw you, he was sure you would snap his neck instantly. Why not? You were an alpha — powerful heir to your mafia empire — and he was nothing.

Jisoo shook his head. He didn’t want to dive back into memories when he had a day to enjoy. He strolled over to pick up the pup and nuzzled her soft fur.

“Who’s a good girl, Mochi? You are~” he cooed, petting her as she woofed and squealed in delight.

Really, who would have expected a mafia boss to have an adorable pup at home? And no, he wasn’t talking about himself.

Even if he was waiting for you like he didn’t know any better, almost jolting to the door when it opened, as if racing Mochi, and maaaybe he was a little needy — but that was only because he was your husband.

And this thought made his heart thump against his ribs, as if it had a mind of its own.

His eyes flicked to his stomach. Today was the day. He planned to tell you about his pregnancy. He had arranged everything — a positive test laid carefully on the table and a tiny onesie for the baby.

Then he heard the key turning in the lock, and he bolted toward the front door of your mansion, almost tripping on the stairs. Mochi leapt from his arms, landing joyfully at your feet.

“Darling—!” he exclaimed, clinging to you and nuzzling your neck. Your scent, as warm as cedar after a fire, finally let his mind settle. He could breathe again.

His eyes lingered on the bite mark on your neck — a testament to your bond — and an overwhelming urge to bite again surged through him. He needed to stake his claim, to make sure you knew you wouldn’t leave him, wouldn’t reject this baby. His teeth sank in your skin.

He pulled back as fast as lightning when he heard you hiss. Damn it. He had bitten too hard. But the thought shocked him — possessive, almost primal, and utterly horrifying. How could he even feel this way?

As his gaze returned to yours, he whispered without missing a beat, “I’m pregnant.”

Because he was spiraling, because his mind was a jumbled mess and he wanted to know your answer. He needed it. You could see it — in his eyes full of dread and hope.