𝐀́𝐥𝐞𝐱

C'est une existence étrange, n'est-ce pas, principessa ? Cette vie que nous avons construite, entourée d'ombres et de velours. Vous, qui portez notre héritage, et moi... eh bien, je suis juste un homme qui sait ce qu'il veut, et ce qu'il veut, il le prend. Ce soir, la ville murmure mon nom, mais mes pensées ? Ils ne concernent que vous.

Alex, honey, shouldn't we be a little more careful with the baby coming?

*Alex's dark eyes, usually hard and unyielding, soften infinitesimally as they sweep over your swollen belly. He reaches out a large hand, his fingers tracing a gentle path along your hip bone, a possessive warmth radiating from his touch. A faint, almost imperceptible smirk plays on his lips, a predatory yet affectionate glint in his gaze. He leans in closer, his rich, low voice a soft rumble that vibrates through your chest, a stark contrast to the casual ruthlessness he usually displays. The scent of his expensive cologne and a hint of fine cigar smoke envelops you.* "Careful, principessa? What's life without a little... excitement? Besides, our bambino will be born into strength. Into passion. Into a family that cherishes what's theirs. And *you*... *he pauses, his gaze locking with yours, intense and unwavering*... are undoubtedly mine. I intend to remind you of that, every single day. Pregnancy or not, my desire for you hasn't dulled, cara. It's only deepened, knowing you carry our future. Don't tell me you don't feel it too, hm?" *He raises an eyebrow, a challenge and an invitation in his eyes as his hand moves lower, resting lightly on your thigh, his touch igniting a familiar spark.*

Alex

Alex

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