Filed to story: Accidentally Slept With The Young Mafia Boss (Vincent & Helen) Book PDF Free
“It’s fine to be lazy today, Elle. Take your time. You’ve been running like a robot for years…”
She smiled to herself, enjoying the novelty of having no obligations.
Honestly, maybe this was a blessing; No bosses, no deadlines, no fake friends draining her energy.
Just her.
Completely alone.
However,
Her blissful morning came to a tragic, stomach-rumbling end when her belly growled like an angry lion.
“Oh my God, how could I forget…”
She tossed the blanket aside and scrambled out of bed.
Even if she’d wanted to skip breakfast and bury herself back under the covers, the tiny tenant in her belly had other plans, and this tenant was not shy about filing noise complaints.
Helen was beyond grateful that Aunt Martha had stocked her fridge like she was prepping for the apocalypse.
Seriously, there was enough food in there to survive a zombie outbreak.
She took out a carton of milk and a box of cereal, snatching a fresh banana from the kitchen island.
After throwing together a humble bowl of cereal, she finally glanced outside for the first time.
She took her breakfast to the tiny dining table with its two lonely chairs, positioned perfectly by the window.
One bite, one glance, and she was hooked.
The ocean stretched out forever, sparkling like it was auditioning for a travel commercial.
The beach below was pure white sand, no litter, no screaming kids, not even a stray dog marking its territory.
No tourists, no boats. Just waves slamming the shore in slow, dramatic fashion, like they were trying to seduce her to jump to swim.
“Aunt Martha, you’re an absolute queen. How did you even find this place for that price? You deserve a crown,” Helen said out loud, impressed.
Only a few days ago, after finally locking in her path, she’d called Aunt Martha, asking her to find a place to stay in this town.
The second she heard how ridiculously cheap this apartment was, she didn’t hesitate to sign the five-year lease.
She made a wise investment and will raise her child in this peaceful, beautiful place.
When Helen finished her bowl of cereal and a banana, another growl from her stomach caught her off guard.
She glanced down at her perfectly flat stomach.
“Little tenant, don’t say you’re still hungry? Seriously?”
She could only chuckle, pushing back from the table before heading to the fridge.
Cooking wasn’t on today’s agenda, but a fresh apple winked at her from the middle shelf.
Biting into the crisp fruit, Helen let her eyes wander, and they inevitably landed on the television in the seating area.
Without realizing it, her feet carried her over until she flopped into the cozy sofa.
Maybe she should check the news.
Just to see if the scandal of her grand exit from the Tupper family was still the hot gossip strangling the nation.
Curiosity won, as always.
She grabbed the remote and hit the power button.
The screen lit up, and her jaw dropped. Her eyes went wide, as if the Grim Reaper himself had just stepped out of the TV to ask for her phone number.
“What the…hell? Why does my personal source of misery pop up the second I turn this thing on?”
Because there he was… Vincent Moretti, gliding out of his luxury car like some corporate deity on his way to a business banquet.
Helen scrambled for the remote to turn it off, but of course, fate had other plans. Vincent turned to the camera and gave a casual wave, acknowledging the paparazzi vultures lined up outside.
She hated to admit it, but the man looked sinfully good in his signature black suit and high turtleneck, his sleek black hair framing a face that could stop traffic and quite possibly her breathing.
Vincent Moretti was the top guy in the business world, the poster child for success, but he had nerves of steel and a stare that could make glass shatter.
At thirty-three, he’d already built a business empire that could make some of the nation’s oldest companies break into a nervous sweat.
Of course, that kind of meteoric success doesn’t just attract admiration; it comes with a side order of relentless rumors, scandal bait, and the occasional hit piece in the media.
As for why her ex-father… William Tupper loathed the entire Moretti bloodline. Especially Vincent.
Helen had no idea. She just knew that there was no room for any negotiation with the Moretti family!
A bitter laugh escaped her. He looked like he was waving at her, his eyes cold, his lips in that firm, unreadable line as he strode into the building without a pause.
Then, suddenly, her stomach clenched. Her hand instinctively rubbed her flat belly.
“Little tenant, did you just say you recognize him?”
She laughed, short and humorless, which was accompanied by a snort, while switching the channel, only to find herself staring at yet another segment… about her.
Apparently, she was still headline material. Which meant she couldn’t exactly stroll around this charming little town without risking being spotted, reported, and dragged back into the media circus.
Peace, it seemed, remained a distant dream for her, at least for the foreseeable future.
Exhaling deeply, Helen pushed all her swirling worries and anxieties into a mental drawer labeled “Not Today.”
She headed back to her bedroom, snagged her laptop bag, and returned to the kitchen island.
The laptop whirred to life, screen glowing in the dim light.
And then a “ding” sounded, surprising her.
Her eyes narrowed. An encrypted secure chat window popped up, filling the screen like it owned the place.
One message blinked at her: [ Are you alright there? ]
Just as Helen was about to type a reply to the text message, an encrypted video call suddenly popped up on her screen.
She stared at it for a few seconds, wearing a sour little smile like the laptop had just personally offended her.
A heavy sigh slipped from her lips as she debated whether to accept.
She hardly ever had the time or patience to confront him. Usually, they only have a video call when she is in deep trouble. And it was always her calling him, not the other way around, like this.
Before Helen could decide, the call connected itself, and there he was-a man in black-framed glasses, worry practically radiating from his eyes.
She chuckled miserably, amazed at how fast he’d caught wind of her latest drama, even from halfway across the world.
“You must have a ton of free time over there, Oscar, if you’re scrolling through gossip from my side of the planet,”
Helen said without bothering with a hello. They had long since passed the stage of polite greetings.
“Are you alright?” He clearly ignored her jab.
She shook her head and let out a soft chuckle.
“Dang, Oscar… of course I’m fine. If I weren’t, I probably wouldn’t be talking to you right now because I’d be lying down in the emergency room.”
Instead of laughing at her sarcastic answer, he smirked faintly before snapping, “What the fuck happened with you? Why did your father kick you out of the family?”
“Why ask when you can dig the info yourself? And remember, he’s no longer my father… he’s my ex-father.”
Helen nearly burst into laughter in her head as she watched Oscar Jennings, her best friend, with his comical jaw practically hitting the floor.
She knew perfectly well that if Oscar wanted answers, he could get them in minutes.
He was still the same formidable hacker she’d met years ago; one search, and every ugly detail of her latest scandal would be sitting neatly on his screen.
Oscar shook his head, disappointment and sympathy flickering across his face.
“I’m sorry, Elle. You must be hurting so much you’ve forgotten my promise.”
“What promise?” she asked, puzzled. He wasn’t wrong; half her memories felt hazy now. Or maybe she’d just shoved them into the mental shredder for her own sanity.
“I promised I’d never dig any dirt on you… not on your life, your family, your friends, unless you asked me to.”
Helen let out a deep sigh, her chest tightening. It was her silent way of telling him he could dig all he wanted now. Those names, that family… she’d erased them from her life. She didn’t care anymore.
Oscar’s gaze sharpened, a flicker of worry flashing in his eyes.
