Accidentally Slept With The Young Mafia Boss (Vincent & Helen) Book PDF Free

She tried to press on the handkerchief knot on his feet gently, but that only made the blood flow out faster, slipping between his fingers. ‘God. No. No, please…’ She screams in her mind, too frightened to see his wound. This wasn’t just a cut. This was a wound that struck deep, hitting something important;…

But before the horror could consume her, Vincent spoke, his tone still sounding calm. “I’m type B. Take as much as you need.” Helen froze. Her head instantly turned toward him, her breath catching in her chest. ‘He… he had the same blood type.’ Her throat tightened, heart pounding so hard she thought it would…

Finally, she can’t hold it anymore. “You said you wanted to talk to me, but why are you only staring at me now? What do you want?” Her voice was steady enough, but inside, she was screaming. Vincent’s lips curved, but not into anything warm. A faint, knowing smile. “Why didn’t you tell me about…

Helen’s chest tightened. Panic surged. Her voice stumbled out, almost too quick, “Wait… wait…Vincent…” Vincent halted. His hand rested on the door handle, his back straight, but he didn’t turn yet. The silence was so intense it felt almost suffocating. She could feel the weight of his expectation pressing against her chest like a physical…

Inside, though, a storm raged. His mind churned with questions that clawed at him. Would Oliver hate him when he learned the truth? Would Helen fight him with everything she had to keep their son hidden in this quiet, insignificant town? Probably. She was stubborn enough to try. But Vincent had already decided. He wouldn’t…

Then, Helen sighs quietly. Her shoulders trembled as she whispered, almost to herself, “I just… I just need him to wake up. That’s all I need.” Vincent opened his mouth several times, but no words came out. He wanted to go over to her, maybe put a hand on her shoulder to calm her down….

For a man who thrived on control, it unsettled him that this, of all things, was beyond his grasp. He could buy empires, crush enemies, rewrite futures. But here, staring at a pale child and an exhausted mother, he felt the hollow truth: his power meant nothing. And he hated it. Yet still, he didn’t…

‘Of course. I ask about myself, and he runs straight back to Helen. Perfect!’ Still, he forced a smile, awkward and a little stiff, before patting the boy’s tiny hand with his large one. “Relax, little man. Your mommy just went to eat. She hadn’t eaten all day, so I made sure she did.” Oliver’s…

Helen’s heart sinks as she quickly thinks, ‘Oh god. Abort mission. Stop right there, young man. Don’t you dare to say anything.’ She shook her head quickly, eyes wide, shooting him every desperate signal she had, pleading glances, tiny shakes of her hand, even a sharp glare that said, ‘Oliver Taylor…one more word and you’re…

“If I wanted to,” he said slowly, “…you wouldn’t be sitting here arguing with me. Oliver would already be with me. You know that, Helen.” She could feel her stomach flip. The calmness and certainty in his voice were terrifying because it was true. He had the power, the resources, and the influence. If Vincent…