Mr. Mafia, Your Baby Girl is Six Years Older Than Me Chapter 08

Mr. Mafia, Your Baby Girl is Six Years Older Than Me Chapter 08

Evelyn’s POV

At dinner, Sebastian came to find me.

He reached my office door and spotted Don Anderson standing there. He knocked anyway, then positioned himself by the door like a guard, waiting for me to come out.

I walked with him toward the mess hall. Didn’t spare Don Anderson a single glance.

We talked about the new data sets, the upcoming work schedule. By the time we finished eating, I’d honestly forgotten James was even there.

But as we headed back to the dorms, he snapped. He burst out of the shadows and grabbed my wrist.

“Who is he? Why are you eating with him?”

I ripped my arm free, irritated.

“None of your business, Don Anderson. Know your place.”

“There’s nothing between us anymore.”

“Keep bothering me, and I’ll call security.”

I pulled out the satellite phone, ready to dial.

His face crumpled. His voice cracked with desperation.

“Evelyn, is this really how you’re going to treat me? I stood out there all afternoon. You used to worry about me when I was cold. Now you don’t even care?”

“After you left, I searched everywhere for you. I’ve always loved you, never anyone else. Never.”

I let out a cold laugh.

“Your never anyone else’, that’s the maid you slept with while I was in the next room? That’s letting your mistress get away with killing my baby?”

“Your love is filthy.”

“Get lost. Now. Or I’m calling for help.”

I slammed the door in his face.

The sound of muffled sobbing drifted through the door all night long.

I didn’t listen.

The next morning, Don Anderson was gone.

I went back to my work like nothing had happened. Life went on.

Then, a few days later, I got a video message.

In it, a woman moved through underground casinos and private nightclub booths—passing between men like a party favor. It took me a minute to recognize her under all that caked-on makeup.

It was Olivia.

The video kept going, but I didn’t have the patience to watch the rest.

No surprise who’d sent it. Don Anderson. Destroying her to pay for his sins. The same way he’d punished me for her sake back then.

Before, he’d used my love like a weapon. Now he was just a clown performing for an empty audience.

A few more days passed. The station director called me into his office, grinning ear to ear.

“Evelyn! You’re a hero to this research station. We were desperate for funding.”

“An anonymous donor just wired three million dollars to the station in your name.”

“This is incredible! This money will take our polar ecosystem research to the next level!”

I blinked, confused. Then I figured it out. Don Anderson. Of course.

And sure enough, he showed up again right after the donation.

“Evelyn… can we talk?”

I led him to the break room coffee corner.

He sat across from me, his eyes fixed on my face like he was afraid I’d vanish.

“Evelyn… you’ve changed so much. I couldn’t see what I had before. I never cherished you like I should’ve.”

“I’m sorry. When I took you out of the Clarke estate, I stood at your mother’s grave and swore I’d take care of you forever.”

“I’m sorry… I’m a bastard. I broke that promise.”

His voice broke. Tears poured down his face without shame.

I hadn’t seen Don Anderson like this in ten years.

I took a sip of my coffee, watching the steam curl above the cup.
Then I let out a soft sigh.

“Don Anderson. I gave you so many chances.”

“I loved you more than anything. And then I hated you more than anything. I was hysterical. I drove myself crazy over you.”

“But now? I don’t feel anything. Your presence doesn’t stir a single ripple.”

He stared at me. The last flicker of hope in his eyes died.

Worse than hatred is indifference.

He knew. I was truly, completely done with him.

“So… thank you for the donation to the station.”

“Don’t come back. Consider us even.”

I pulled on my knit cap and pushed through the door.

Sebastian was already outside, waiting. Concern written all over his face. He must have heard what happened.

I gave him a small smile and walked beside him, heading away.

Behind me, Don Anderson’s shoulders caved. His spine folded like a broken spine.

He watched me disappear into the distance, and finally understood.

Some people, once they leave, never look back.

And he would spend the rest of his life living with that loss.