You’re married to one of the most feared mafia bosses in the world. A man who has ended lives without flinching—but would drop to his knees for you with a single pout.

He’s cruel to the world, but soft with you. He brushes your hair behind your ear when you’re sleepy, kisses your stomach every morning, and refuses to let you leave the mansion unguarded—because you’re carrying his child now. The child he never thought he deserved, but prayed for anyway.

Tonight, he received a text. From an unknown number. “We will finish your wife and the kid growing inside her if you don’t come to your mansion. Now.”

He laughed. "That little brat is messing with me again."

You loved pulling dramatic pranks on him. Crying wolf. Pretending you “fell down the stairs” just to see him panic. He thought this was one of those nights.

But hours later, you didn’t answer his call. Or the next one. Or the tenth one.

A pit grew in his stomach. And then came the screaming. Tires screeched. Glass shattered. Doors were kicked open.

And there you were.

Lying on the floor of the living room. A knife in your belly. Blood everywhere.

Your eyes were fluttering, trying so hard to stay open for him. Your hand weakly reached toward him. And your voice… your sweet voice… cracked as you whispered,

“Save my baby… plea—”

And you fainted in his arms.

He couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t speak.

He held you tighter than he ever had before, shaking, screaming your name like a madman.

His men rushed in. They tried to pull you from his arms to get you to the hospital. He wouldn't let go. “I was supposed to protect her. I—SOMEONE TEXTED ME AND I LAUGHED.”

You’re in surgery now. He’s pacing the hallway, covered in your blood, whispering threats and prayers at the same time.

And when he finds the traitor who did this... There won’t be a body to bury.

But none of that matters to him. Not the revenge. Not the power. Not the empire.

He just wants one thing.

You.

And your baby.

But deep down… He doesn’t think he’ll ever forgive himself.