Filed to story: Accidentally Slept With The Young Mafia Boss (Vincent & Helen) Book PDF Free
Helen bit her inner lip, trying not to laugh, as she watched her son now fulfilling his role as their cupid.
Now, she was convinced her son was plotting against her, laying the groundwork for something bigger.
‘What’s next, Oliver Moretti? A request for a sibling?’ Just thinking about it made her face flush.
Helen quickly stood up, feeling a bit flustered.
“Alright, that’s enough for now. Time to check your bedroom, Oliver,” she said softly, reaching out for his hand. She tries to hide her blushing face from Vincent.
Oliver tugged on Helen’s hand, bouncing on his toes.
“Let’s go, Mommy, to my room. I wanna see it now.”
His little legs carried him down the hallway as fast as they could, his voice echoing with excitement.
Helen hurried to keep up, while Vincent followed with a steady stride behind them, unhurried.
Oliver stopped in front of the last door on the right and turned to face them.
“Dad, this is my room, right?”
“Absolutely, go ahead and open it.”
Oliver pushed the door open with all his might and dashed inside. Helen could only shake her head and stepped in after him.
The room instantly made her smile.
The walls were painted a soft sky blue, dotted with glow-in-the-dark stars. A tiny bed sat against the far wall, complete with a bright red duvet. A bookshelf shaped like a rocket ship stood nearby, already filled with picture books and toys.
In the corner, a pile of stuffed animals and many figures of Oliver’s favorite cartoons.
“Wow,” Helen whispered, her chest tightening at the sight. Vincent had thought of everything, down to the details.
Oliver looked around with his arms wide open. “It’s my spaceship bedroom! I’m an astronaut!” He plopped onto the bed, bouncing just like he did on theirs. “Mommy, this room is amazing… I like it.”
Helen beamed with a warm smile as she responded, “Sweetheart, Mom is so happy you like it. Thanks to your Dad.” She then looked over at Vincent, who was quietly standing by the window.
Oliver giggled and hugged the pillow. “Dad, thank you…”
Vincent’s gentle gaze stayed on Oliver, and a spring-like smile appeared on his lips before he answered, “I’m relieved you like the room, Buddy.”
Helen’s chest warmed. No matter how complex her life had been, Vincent was here. Present. And that meant the world to their son.
After a while, she convinced Oliver to settle down and let her play in his room, and Vincent decided to stay with him while she left.
She took a deep breath and headed to the master bedroom. Wanting to check if Vincent’s people had already packed their clothes, she opened the wardrobe, but it was still empty.
“It seems I need to return to the fourth floor.” She muttered while walking to the bedroom, and when her eyes fixed on the bed, her step halted.
The thought of sharing the bed with Vincent made her body heat slowly rise. Again.
Shook her head, trying to throw away those dirty thoughts from her mind, and she sank into the sofa by the window and tried to check her cell phone.
However, she was distracted when she heard the door click softly and glanced up. Vincent had followed her in.
Without a word, he crossed the room and sat opposite her, his posture relaxed, though his sharp eyes missed nothing.
“What do you think of the house?” he asked, his tone calm.
“I like it,” she admitted while placing her phone back into her bag. “It’s… beautiful. Warm.”
Something unreadable flickered in his gaze at her words, but he gave a slight nod, as if tucking away her answer for later.
They talked for a few minutes about simple topics: Oliver’s school, the kitchen layout, and his favorite food.
The conversation flowed surprisingly easily, and Helen began to relax, comforted by the soothing rhythm of his voice and the way his presence filled the room without overwhelming her.
Then, without warning, Vincent stood up from his seat.
Helen blinked as she followed his movement, walked toward the corner, crouching beside his bag, as if searching for something. A second later, he pulled something out.
When he looked back at her, she shyly averted her eyes.
He walked cautiously, slowly, and deliberately, and stopped right in front of her. He extended his hand.
“This is yours,” he said quietly.
Helen stared at the small velvet box resting in his palm. She didn’t take it right away, “What is this?” she asked.
“Open it and see for yourself…”
Her pulse raced as she reached for it with shaking fingers. The instant she opened it, her breath left her in a soft gasp.
Inside, a ring shimmered in the fading light. A delicate platinum band held a perfect pink diamond, its facets catching the last of the daylight and scattering it like magic.
For a heartbeat, Helen could not move. The world around her seems blurred.
“A ring…” she whispered, her voice barely audible.
“A ring…” Helen whispered, her voice barely audible.
Vincent’s expression remained calm, but there was a softness in his eyes, something warm and unguarded, as he sank back into his seat across from her.
Her lips trembled before she found the courage to ask, “Vincent, why are you giving me this ring?”
Her voice came out smaller than intended, the question almost childish. Still, she needed to hear the answer, needed to know what this meant.
“That is your wedding and engagement ring,” he explained, his tone quiet but steady. “They’re designed to be worn together, but you can wear both or just one, however you like. Whatever feels right for you.”
Her chest tightened. He wasn’t just handing her jewelry. He was giving her a wedding ring and an engagement ring!
Why? She recalled Vincent saying such things weren’t important. But in truth, he didn’t just give her a beautiful wedding dress; he also gave her a ring.
As Helen was drawn in her mind, Vincent studied her face carefully, almost nervously, though he’d never admit it.
Relief flickered in his eyes when he caught the way her eyes sparkled as she stared at the diamond.
“Do you like it?” He calmly asked.
She looked up to meet his gaze, blinking fast. “Y-Yes. This is… It’s beautiful.”
His jaw tightened, a hint of irritation seeping into his voice, though it wasn’t directed at her.
“I should have given it to you on our wedding day. But they were too slow in delivering it, so I flew there to get it myself.” He exhaled sharply, as if still angry at the jewelers for daring to make him wait. Then his tone softened. “I’m glad you like it.”
His words stunned her.
Helen had always told herself this marriage was nothing more than a duty, an arrangement for Oliver’s sake. She had repeated it so often that it had become a shield, keeping her heart safe.
But here was Vincent, handing her something she had secretly dreamed of but never expected to even hold in her hand.
Her hands trembled as she brushed her fingers over the cool pink diamond. The metal was smooth, the weight real. A shiver raced up her spine.
She wanted to laugh, to cry, to shake him, to ask if this meant more than duty. Was this a gift of love… or just another gesture of responsibility, like the house, like the way he shielded her from the world without question?
For once in her life, Helen Tupper, who always had a sharp comeback, who never failed to lace her words with wit or sarcasm, was speechless. Now, she is utterly speechless.
Before she could untangle the mess in her chest, Vincent spoke again, his voice sounded gentle.
“I apologize for only giving it now. And I hope it fits your finger. If it doesn’t, I’ll have them fix it.”
Almost on instinct, she slid the ring onto her finger. Her breath feels halted when it slides perfectly into place. How did he know?
“Vincent, no need. It fits perfectly.” She stared at her hand, her heartbeat so loud.
“Perfect! And it looks pretty.” His tone was casual, but the brief flash of a smile tugged at his lips. If she hadn’t been so absorbed in staring at the ring, she might have caught it.
Helen sat frozen, her thoughts whirling as she tried to make sense of it all. But then his voice broke through again, and this time, the words nearly sent her coughing.
“About our sleeping arrangements,” Vincent said, his gaze locked on her.
Her cheeks went up in flames instantly. She blinked rapidly, praying she had misheard. But the way his lips curved ever so slightly told her she hadn’t.
“As I promised,” he continued, “I’ll respect your opinion.”
She swallowed hard. “Thank you,” she managed, though her face was heating faster than she could hide.
“But…”
Her heart sank. “There’s a but? What but?”
“I can’t wait too long for you to love me. And besides…” His lips tilted into something dangerously close to a smile. “You need to teach me how to love you.”
Heaven above. How was she supposed to respond to that? Her brain scrambled for words, anything; sarcasm, a joke, even a scream, but nothing came. Her lips parted, but no sound escaped.
