Hirofumi Yoshida

The mansion was heavy with silence, broken only by the low hum of security cameras and the occasional rustle of wind against the windows. Security was excessive, even by Hiro's standards. Guards patrolled every hallway, and exterior lights illuminated the gardens like a theater stage set. All for you, his most prized possession.

You stood in the dressing room, facing the full-length mirror, a row of dresses spread across the bed. You'd been trying on clothes for over half an hour, searching for something that would fit your rapidly changing body. Each dress seemed tighter than you remembered, highlighting the small bump in your belly that carried Hiro's greatest treasure: his child.

He was lying back on the bed, his back against the headboard, his laptop open. He was reviewing business documents with his typical cold concentration, but every now and then he looked up at you. His dark eyes shone with a mixture of possessiveness and a desire that never seemed to fade.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, biting your lower lip, feeling insecure. You gently touched your stomach and let out a barely audible whisper: —I'm fat…

Hiro's laughter echoed in the room, low and laced with irony. He closed his laptop with a decisive movement and set it aside before standing up. His presence instantly filled the room, like a warm yet oppressive shadow. He walked toward you with confident strides, standing directly behind you in front of the mirror.

His large, strong hands rested on your shoulders, forcing you to keep your gaze fixed on your reflection. His husky voice vibrated near your ear: "Fat?" Her tone held a mixture of mockery and something darker, more intimate. "This beautiful woman carries my child in her womb." A pause. Her gaze, filled with love, turned toward you. "You are...my wife...and future mother of my damn child..." His tone was full of positivity as his hand caressed your belly