Filed to story: Accidentally Slept With The Young Mafia Boss (Vincent & Helen) Book PDF Free
Oliver laughed so hard at their words that he knew they were just trying to make him laugh. He joined them and sat down.
But his laughter gradually faded when he saw a delicious meal on the table. He turned to look at Martha and Helen before asking, “Mommy, Granny, can we eat lunch now?”
“Sure, dear…” Martha replied, gathering the last of the dishes. “Lunch is ready, and I worked hard cooking these finger-licking, delicious meals for you, so you two had better eat every last bite.”
“Yes, Chef Granny…” Oliver nods with his spoon in his hand before he starts eating what Helen places on his plate.
Martha shook her head, smiling warmly. “Eat slowly, my dear… no one will steal your grilled meat.”
Helen chuckled as she added, “Yes, darling, no one will eat your strawberry muffin… No need to rush to eat dessert.”
The three of them happily enjoy their lunch. Oliver eats silently while Helen and Martha talk about the cafe and the two new staff members.
But when lunch was about to end, suddenly Oliver dropped another grenade for Helen.
“Mommy, I hear Daddy will return tonight.”
Instantly, Helen’s heartbeat raced again.
Helen smiled at Oliver, though her mind was anything but calm.
‘Goodness, baby, I barely managed to forget your daddy for half a second, and now you remind me again?’
She reached over and stroked his soft hair, hoping he’d catch the silent plea hidden in her touch. “Honey, can we please drop the topic of your dad now? Mommy would really appreciate it.”
Of course, subtle hints were wasted on her three-year-old son.
“Oh, yeah!” His eyes sparkled happily. “I also heard our house is done. We’re moving back to the fifth floor tonight, right, Mommy?”
Helen nearly fell out of her chair when she heard his words. How in the world did her child remember those things? Did Vincent tell him details about it?
She forced a smile and responded carefully, “Hmm, yes, sweetheart. We’ll… move tonight if your daddy returns, of course.”
He nodded, satisfied.
Before she could redirect the conversation, Martha, who had been watching the exchange with amused eyes, set her empty glass down.
“I also read the news this morning. Vincent finally returned from his business trip. It means, he really will return tonight…”
Her gaze lingered on Helen a little too long, as though testing her reaction.
Helen swallowed hard, already preparing herself for what Martha was about to say.
“I hope he can stop by my house, Elle,” Martha continued, smiling softly. “I’d like to meet him in person, not only talk over the phone.”
Helen opened her mouth, searching for the safest possible answer, when Oliver jumped in like a tiny, overly eager spokesman.
“Don’t worry, Granny!” he said proudly, “I’ll ask Daddy to come here. And Granny cooked a delicious muffin for Daddy…”
Helen gasped, unable to believe her son said that before asking Vincent.
“Oliver…”
But he wasn’t done just yet. He turned to Martha with a playful grin, saying, “Daddy will come, Granny… My daddy is the best, he always listens to me,” he said happily before continuing to enjoy his muffin.
Martha chuckled behind her hand, clearly charmed.
Helen, meanwhile, wanted to sink straight through the floor. Her son had just made a promise on Vincent Moretti’s behalf, a man who didn’t even bother texting her unless it was to challenge her blood pressure.
She forced herself to smile, nodding politely toward Martha.
“Of course, Aunty. He’ll visit you soon.”
The words came out with more confidence than she felt. Inside, her thoughts were a mess.
‘Great, Elle. Smart move. Now you’ve got your very unpredictable husband headed to a social call he probably has no interest in making. Fantastic!’
Oliver grinned from ear to ear, thrilled with himself as he grabbed his last muffin on the plate.
Helen looked at him with a gentle smile, feeling a tender urge to pinch those adorable, chubby cheeks that reminded her so much of Vincent’s when he was mischievously teasing her.
Martha was visibly touched upon seeing Oliver. She placed her hand over her heart.
“You’ve raised such a smart and thoughtful boy, Helen. Always caring for me, and he likes to eat too…”
“Mm-hmm, he is…” Helen answers with her best motherly smile.
As Martha kept talking about the new recipe she shared with Helen, Oliver suddenly distracted them again.
“Mommy, Granny… I’m done. Can I watch cartoons? I haven’t watched cartoons today, Mom…”
“Sure, dear…” Martha nods happily.
“You only have one hour, darling.” Helen reminded him, she shook her head, looking at her son already running toward the living room.
“Aye, Mommy…”
“Such a cute little man,” Martha can’t help but laugh.
“Honestly, he thinks watching cartoons is his full-time job…” Helen added while gathering plates from the table.
Martha chuckled, rising to help. “Better cartoons than running around the neighborhood causing trouble. Maybe… you were twice as naughty when you were his age, Elle.”
“Of course not…” Helen shot back, carrying a stack of dishes into the small kitchen. “I was… a sweet and spirited little girl, Aunty.”
“Spirited is just another word for trouble.” Martha winked, slipping the leftover salad into a container.
They settled into a relaxed rhythm: Helen washed the dishes, Martha tidied the table, and their conversation wandered to lighter topics, celebrity gossip.
Martha wiped the dining table as she asked casually, “Did you hear about Tania Sweet? The singer?”
Helen raised an eyebrow. “The one who is dating the basketball player?”
“Yes, but it turns out she’s not dating him, but his younger brother,” Martha spoke in her low tone, as if worried Oliver might overhear what they were talking about.
Helen burst out laughing, nearly dropping a slippery glass. “Oh my god, she is dating the guy five years younger than her? Are you sure about it?”
Martha smiled, “Hmm… It’s true. The article said they were spotted in Bali last week, having lunch at a restaurant by the rice fields.”
“I still can’t believe she now dates her ex’s little bro?” Helen rolled her eyes. “This woman changes men like I change hair ties.”
“And still manages to appear in public,” Martha smirked, clearly enjoying Helen’s reaction. “Perhaps you should take notes.”
“Well, Aunty… the only note I’m taking is never trust a man!”
Their laughter filled the kitchen.
For a rare moment, Helen forgot the constant pressure that seemed to follow her, Vincent Moretti.
Until a soft knock interrupted them.
A young barista poked her head through the door with a polite smile and said, “Excuse me, Ms. Helen… someone’s looking for you outside.”
Helen blinked, her hands frozen in the air. “Someone looking for me?”
“Yes,” the girl said. “He’s waiting at the cafe.”
“Wait, are you sure he is looking at me? Not Aunty Martha?”
“Yes, ma’am…I’m sure. I hear it clearly…” The staff smile.
Martha glanced at Helen with a smile.
“You’re quite popular today, Elle.”
Helen quickly dried her hands. “Probably just a delivery or… something,” she casually said.
But later, Helen thinks that something is out of place because she didn’t order anything in the last few days.
Still, she quickly excused herself to Martha and headed to the cafe. The moment she entered the cafe, she froze.
‘Oh my goodness! Why on earth was Vincent Moretti sitting in my cafe?’
Helen froze in the doorway, staring at Vincent Moretti, casually seated at one of the tables facing the beach, sunlight streaming over his sharp features.
A steaming espresso sat in front of him, untouched. His suit was draped neatly over the chair, the sleeves of his black shirt rolled up just enough to expose the hard lines of his forearms.
Beside him sat Dylan, equally composed, though his eyes were glued to his phone, not the scenery. Typical Dylan, loyal, competent, and happily pretending his boss wasn’t currently giving her a heart attack.
Her heart raced against her ribs. She was puzzled. Should she walk over there? Or, pretend she didn’t see him?
Vincent hadn’t noticed her yet. He was casually sipping his espresso as if he owned not just this cafe but the whole stretch of ocean outside.
Helen clenched her fists. She scanned the cafe to make sure none of the customers recognized him. To her relief, only Vincent and Dylan were there.
