He Chose His Son Over His Mafia Queen Chapter 03

He Chose His Son Over His Mafia Queen Chapter 03

The Ferraro family bodyguards were the first to step out.

After assessing the situation, they looked coldly at the mother and son clutching each other nearby.

Sofia swallowed hard, her voice shaking with fear.

“I’m sorry, Matteo. I was just too worried about my boy, so I misunderstood your wife…”

Matteo didn’t even look at her. He spoke directly to me.

“I know you’re still angry. I’ll make her apologize to you.”

Sofia caught the hint instantly, bowing her knees submissively. “I am sorry, Donna.”

Matteo quickly waved his hand, signaling her to take the child and leave.

I tapped the steering wheel, letting out a sharp scoff. “That’s it?”

Matteo stared at her retreating figure.

After a long silence, he sighed, “She’s the boy’s mother after all. Don’t make things too difficult for her.”

I looked away.

My eyelashes fluttered imperceptibly.

When I first found out about Sofia’s existence, Matteo had told me, “I was only nineteen when I was drugged.”

“That woman only did it for money, using it as a chance to latch onto the Ferraro family. If I ever see her again, I’ll make sure she wishes she were dead.”

Yet here he was, seeing her again.

Looking into those eyes that were identical to his son’s, his heart had involuntarily softened.

A reunion after a long separation, laced with lingering glances.

I exhaled, a heavy tightness in my chest, and stepped on the gas to drive away.

Rain began to fall, the slanted wind forcing moisture through the window to weigh heavily on my eyelashes.

Right then, my phone lit up.

I wiped my eyes. It was a message from the Moretti family team.

[Miss Freya, the headcount is complete. We are ready to withdraw from the Ferraro estate at any moment.]

I decisively typed back a line: [Good. We leave tomorrow. The sooner, the better.]

Back home, I began organizing the files, reviewing the asset division details on the divorce papers over and over.

I had once made Matteo sign a prenup.

If he ever cheated or sired a bastard, he’d walk away with a big fat zero.

Back then, under a sky full of fireworks, he had agreed to every single demand without hesitation.

I still remembered the fluttering of my heart that day.

But now, I couldn’t seem to sympathize with my past self at all.

Matteo opened the bedroom door at some point.

His cuffs carried a faint trace of perfume.

“Still mad?”

“I sent Marco over to his mother’s place tonight.”

He forced himself to be patient. “I know you like kids. I’ll do my best to convince Marco to call you Mommy.”

I didn’t look up, stating flatly, “He will never be my child.”

Matteo’s expression instantly turned cold.

He leaned against the window frame, lighting a cigarette.

“Freya, I don’t understand. Why can’t you just accept Marco?”

“It seems like you’ve hated him from the very beginning.”

He had it wrong.

It was Marco who hated me.

When we first met, I had prepared a gift for him.

Not only did he reject it, but he used the very remote-controlled car I bought him to kill the baby in my womb.

At that thought, I shut my laptop and lifted my eyes expressionlessly.

“Matteo, you know the truth.”

“What truth?”

“Whenever you look at that boy’s face, you always think of his mother.”

Matteo’s hand holding the cigarette suddenly trembled.

After a long pause, he let out a cold laugh.

“If there were any future between her and me, do you really think you’d be sitting in the Donna’s seat right now?”

My heart felt as if it had been violently wrenched.

He looked down on Sofia’s behavior, but that didn’t stop him from using her to humiliate me.

Seeing that I no longer argued back, his lips curled into a satisfied smirk.

“Be good. Haven’t you always wanted to see the Northern Lights? I cleared three days off my schedule. Let’s go tomorrow, alright?”

I silently turned my head away, refusing to engage with him any further.

The next morning, Matteo saw the suitcase I had already pulled out and let out a low laugh.

“You even packed your things. Look at you, saying one thing but meaning another.”

Right before I could pull out the divorce papers, Marco came running in, crying.

“Papa, today is the school’s open house day.”

“My Papa and Mommy have never shown up together. All the other kids have both parents. They always mock me for being from a single-parent home…”

“Papa, just show up with Mommy this once. Just this once, okay?”

Matteo hesitated for a brief second.

Ultimately, he agreed.

The Northern Lights we were destined never to see drifted one step further away.

Before heading out the door, he didn’t dare look me in the eye.

A few minutes later, a text popped up from him.

[I’m only doing this for the kid. I’m just meeting her this once.]

I smiled bitterly in my heart.

This time it was a meeting.

What would it be next time?

A family photo? A dinner together? Or a vacation?

With a living, breathing child between them, he and Sofia were bound to be entangled forever.

Fortunately, I still retained the right to walk away cleanly.

At two o’clock in the afternoon, I packed my two suitcases and waited for the Moretti family car to pick me up.

Yet, the exact moment I stepped out the door, I ran straight into a sweating, breathless Matteo.