Filed to story: Accidentally Slept With The Young Mafia Boss (Vincent & Helen) Book PDF Free
The drive was short, barely ten minutes. Her hands tightened on the wheel while she heard Oliver hum happily behind her, peeking out the window.
By the time she parked outside the Beach Side Cafe, Helen’s nerves buzzed.
She stepped out and looked at the familiar building. Its cheerful little sign looked dim, almost lonely now that the cafe had been closed for days.
The sight overwhelmed her with guilt. The cafe had closed immediately after Oliver’s accident, and she told herself it was only temporary, just until he recovered.
Yet, her plan changed. She will leave this place, and it causes her heart to ache. So many memories linger here, and she feels unprepared to let go of them all.
Her time is running out. Vincent had agreed to give her time to settle things here before moving into his world, but “time” felt like sand slipping too quickly through her fingers.
‘No need to rush, Elle…’ She tries to calm her emotions.
Helen reached for Oliver’s hand as they walked up to the entrance.
Inside, the cafe smelled faintly of roasted coffee and vanilla.
However, the air was heavier than usual without the buzz of chatter and clinking mugs.
Helen’s gaze swept across the quiet tables and chairs, each one filled with memories: Oliver’s laughter, Aunt Martha’s cheerful scolding, the warmth of something that had once felt like a dream come true, to live peacefully in this beautiful, small heaven.
She bent down, smoothing Oliver’s hair.
“Sweetheart, let’s go inside…”
Oliver nodded enthusiastically, his grin returning.
“Hmm, let’s go. I miss Granny!”
They walk inside and head directly to Martha’s house, located right behind the cafe.
Helen smiled, though her chest tightened. She couldn’t ignore it any longer. She would have to tell Martha about Vincent. She didn’t want Martha to hear it from anyone else.
She sighed, gripping her son’s hand more tightly.
‘Be brave, Elle… Aunt Martha would be happy for you when she learns about it. And, she won’t ask anything, she won’t judge you, just like she usually does…’
Martha appeared just in time as Helen and Oliver walked through the little garden behind the cafe.
She was wiping her hands on her apron when her gaze landed on Helen, worried at first. Still, the moment it shifted to Oliver, her whole expression melted.
“Oh, my darling boy!” Martha said, tossing her apron onto a garden bench without a second thought. She hurried forward and bent low, her arms already outstretched.
Oliver’s eyes widened with delight. “Granny!” he threw his little arms around her neck as she scooped him up.
“Careful, careful,” Martha murmured, holding him tight but gently, mindful of his wound. “Oh, how I’ve missed you so much.”
Oliver pressed his cheek against hers and giggled. “I missed you so, so much too! Like…” He stretched his arms out as wide as they would go. “…this much!”
Helen stifled a laugh, looking at how close they were. She follows them as they walk toward the house.
Martha laughed happily as she swayed him in her arms.
“Oh, sweetheart, that’s a lot of missing. Grandma’s heart was so empty without you.” She pulled back to check his feet, worry clouding her eyes as she looked at his injured feet. “How’s that little leg of yours?”
Oliver puffed up proudly, his small chest rising. “Uncle Doctor said I heal super fast ’cause I eat all my carrots and broccoli!” He pointed at his leg as if it were proof of his strength. “Mommy says carrots make me strong like a superhero.”
Helen bit back a laugh, her lips curving as she answered, “Yes, darling. Very strong. You’ll be running on the beach again before you know it.”
“Yay!” Oliver clapped his hands, then leaned close to Martha’s ear and whispered very loudly, “Granny, when I get better, you have to chase me. But no cheating, okay? Mommy always cheats!”
“Oliver!” Helen gasped, laughing. She can’t believe her son will playfully say that. “What did you say? Of course, mommy doesn’t cheat. But, you just run too fast.”
Martha chuckled heartily, smoothing Oliver’s hair. “Oh, I believe you, darling.”
Helen rolls her eyes, pretending to be scandalized. “Excuse me? Whose side are you on?”
Oliver, still clinging to Martha’s neck, lifted his little chin. “Granny’s side!” he declared while giggling.
Martha and Helen both burst into laughter.
Helen shook her head, muttering, “Traitor,” but her heart warmed at the sight of Oliver so happy.
Her son only revealed his real age when talking to Martha. To others, he appeared quite mature, almost like an adult.
This sometimes amused her, but she felt grateful because Martha was the only person her son considered a family member and thought of as his true grandmother.
Still, beneath her smile, nerves stir in Helen’s stomach. Martha wasn’t her blood relative, but she’d always been her safe place, the one person she could trust.
But now she was keeping the biggest secret of her life from her. The longer she waited, the harder it became to start telling her about Vincent.
“You should’ve let me come to the hospital, Elle…” Martha’s words pull Helen out of her troubling mind.
Helen’s chest tightened. She had expected this. “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I just… didn’t want to worry you more than you already were.”
“Worrying is my job…” Martha said softly, still holding Oliver in her arms. “You’re like my own daughter, Helen… Please don’t push me away.” She smiles.
That eased Helen’s nerves, “I know… you’re right, Aunty… I won’t do that anymore.” She smiled nervously.
…
They entered the living room and sat down on the sofa. Martha allowed Oliver to sit next to her, and Helen sat across from them.
While Helen was still trying to figure out how to tell Martha about Vincent Moretti, suddenly Oliver spoke.
“Granny… Do you know Daddy?”
Helen nearly choked on her breath. Her cheeks flushed red.
She was still trying to find the right words and the right moment to tell Martha, but her son just threw it out like that? She was left speechless.
Martha blinked in surprise, looking at Oliver. And then to Helen. “Daddy?” she repeated carefully.
Helen’s pulse thundered in her ears. She opened her mouth to intervene, but Oliver was already speaking again.
“Yes, yes, Daddy is big, taller than the door!” Oliver stretched his little arms high above his head.
Martha froze, her brows pulling together. “Elle… this…” she said slowly.
Helen forced a laugh, though it sounded fragile to her own ears. “He watched a movie the other day…” Hearing herself, she couldn’t believe she had said that.
And of course, Oliver interrupted with his innocent little voice. “No, Mommy. I mean my real Daddy. The one who gave me the big black car. Daddy Vince-“
Helen’s eyes widened. She tried to warn him to stop. Thankfully, he finally didn’t reveal Vincent’s name.
She had already told Oliver that she needed to speak privately with Aunt Martha about it. Still, this little brat had forgotten his promise and had now revealed everything.
‘Thank God… he finally understood…’
But just when Helen thought she was safe, Oliver spoke again.
“My Daddy is busy. He can’t stay longer with us. But he bought us a car…” He announced proudly, puffing out his tiny chest. “It’s black and shiny and has a big red bow!”
Martha’s lips parted. She looked utterly bewildered as she turned back to Helen. “Elle, the mysterious man? Did he finally come…?”
Helen could only laugh bitterly inside. ‘Thank you, Oliver. Truly the world’s most loyal double agent.’
She cleared her throat. “Yes, he came. And yes, he bought a car for Oliver. For emergencies.”
Martha’s eyes grew blurry with tears. She felt overjoyed to finally hear about the man she had always wanted to ask Helen about, but never dared, afraid it might make her sad.
And now, not only did she hear about him, but that mysterious man had finally come back. He had come to this town, met Oliver, and even bought them a car.
“Oh dear, Elle… I’m so happy for you and for Oliver…” Martha’s voice trembled. She genuinely felt happy for Helen. “W-Who is that lucky person, Elle…? You have to bring him here to meet me…”
“W-Who is that lucky person, Elle? You have to bring him here to meet me…”
Helen hesitated.
Her heart raced, the weight of the truth pressing heavily against her chest. If she didn’t say it now, Oliver might blurt out something even worse, something she couldn’t cover with flimsy excuses.
She drew in a slow, steady breath, her lungs aching with the effort of keeping herself calm.
The words felt heavy on her tongue as she forced them out. “Aunty Martha… we need to talk. Alone.”
Martha’s eyes sharpened with quiet understanding. But it wasn’t his reaction that Helen worried most about; it was Oliver’s.
Her little boy frowned at her, a crease forming on his tiny brow. It was almost comical how serious he looked, as though he sensed she wanted him out of the room.
Helen’s heart ached at the thought that he might protest. “Sweetheart,” she said gently, meeting his curious gaze. “Can you wait for us in your playroom? Mommy needs to talk about something with Granny.”
She knew her son loved the playroom Martha had set up for him. Books, blocks, puzzles, and a small box of toy cars, all carefully chosen to make him feel at home. It was a sanctuary where he could lose himself in play and forget about the heaviness of the adult world.
But still, Helen hated that she had to keep him in the dark. Her son didn’t need to know how messy her past was, or how her mistakes had uprooted both of their lives. He was only three. He deserved lightness, joy, not the shadows of her regrets.
