The Mafia King's Unwanted Pregnant Wife

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the room right next to our-my-bedroom.

betrayal. My body felt weak, drained. My inner wolf, the life force tied to his, was restless and agi

ld guest room he had assigned

open. It was Dante. He approached the

e reached out and stroked my hair, a gesture that once

ll of her baby's milk. The scent was an invasion, a physical presence in the room that made my n

oat dry. My own body was fighting agains

r, I felt it-a private, intimate mental link opening between him and

dripping with fake vulnerability. *The

tion was n

tantly, his thought a warm car

hardening slightly. "Serena needs me.

n he wa

mated wife, lying sick and

ere. I couldn't breathe this air. I pushed myself up, my legs

tried to look away, to keep walking, but my eyes

ing on the bed, looking artfully exhausted, while Dante sat beside her, gently rocking h

h to stifle a sob. My body was a s

. "When will you do it, Dante? When will

to her forehead. "Soon, my love," he promised. "Very soon. I'l

g for months, finally shattered