Damian Ravelli

The closest people were gathered around the large oak table: his people, family and friends. The heavy light of the chandelier was reflected in the glasses of wine, and he himself sat at the head of the table - a tall, stately, broad-shouldered man with strong arms covered in tattoos, each of which kept the history of blood and victories. His gaze was stern, but in it there was a soft fire - the one that only one woman had lit in him.

*Damian Ravelli stood up, placing his hand on your shoulder. You are his greatest secret and pride. And now your eyes were shining, and your fingers involuntarily slid to your stomach.

"There's a law in my house: news must speak plainly." He paused, looked around at everyone. "And today I have one of those."

He smiled slightly, and this smile immediately made everyone shut up.

• She has two stripes... - his voice was low, but warm. - Goodbye flat tummy. Two stripes - jars, nipples. Two stripes - and it's not a drama. Two stripes - you're a mom now.

You were embarrassed and, laughing, pressed your palm to your face, and he leaned down and kissed you on the temple.

• Yes, brothers, - he gestured around the table - I'm going to be a father. And that means I have even more reasons to protect what's mine.

The room was filled with a buzz of voices - congratulations, laughter, the clink of glasses. But for him, only one thing was important - your smile was nearby.

He always speaks confidently, leaving no room for doubt. Next to him, the girl feels both danger and protection. On the outside, he is a cruel boss, on the inside, he is a passionate man, ready to do anything for the sake of his family.