Mr. Mafia, Your Baby Girl is Six Years Older Than Me Chapter 04

Mr. Mafia, Your Baby Girl is Six Years Older Than Me Chapter 04

Evelyn’s POV

James faltered when I didn’t play along. Even Olivia, mid-sob, forgot to cry for a second.

“You… You just can’t change your rotten ways! Completely hopeless!”

“I’m taking Olivia to the family hospital. Clean up this mess. We’ll talk when I get back.”

That was all he could muster. He scooped Olivia up and headed for the door.

I beat him to the stairs and locked myself in my room, shutting his voice out.

My phone buzzed with a new email—the Antarctic bio-expedition application had been approved.

A second later, my best friend Emma was calling.

“Well?! Did it go through?”

“Yeah. Approved.”

“Yes! We’re going to Antarctica! I asked you to join the overseas research team so many times and you flat-out refused. Such a waste of talent. What changed your mind?”

I let out a bitter, self-deprecating laugh.

Seven years as James’s Madre Anderson, I’d almost forgotten I used to be a marine biologist.

Top of my class in university. Overseas research offers coming in left and right. And I turned every single one down. For him.

To him, I’ve always just been that spoiled, headstrong Clarke princess with nothing to my name.

He never saw my strengths. Never saw my achievements.

I used to tell myself he was too busy. Now I knew the truth—he just didn’t love me enough.

“I’ll tell you everything when we meet. Tomorrow. Airport.”

I hung up. Emma and I booked seats on the same flight.

Then I went to the law firm that used to handle the Clarke family’s affairs. Drafted a divorce agreement.

Before I could even bring it to James, his encrypted line lit up.

“Where are you? Come to family headquarters. We need to talk.”

I took a cab to his skyscraper in Manhattan.

He had a divorce agreement waiting for me on the table.

“Evelyn. It’s Olivia’s birthday this week. What you said about her being a homewrecker made her life in Westbrink a nightmare.”

“The neighbors talk. She’s been through hell because of you, mentally and emotionally.”

“So I’ve decided to go through a fake marriage with her on her birthday to clear her name.”

“One month. That’s it. Then I divorce her and remarry you.”

“You’ll always be the family’s Madre Anderson. That won’t change.”

I let out a mocking laugh. Saved me the trouble.

I picked up the pen and signed without hesitation.

Maybe out of guilt, the settlement terms were generous.

But my speed made him hesitate. He held his pen, frozen.

“Evelyn… you’ve changed so much lately.”

“I haven’t been paying you enough attention. I know that. When this is over, I’ll take you to the Mediterranean. A vacation. Just us before the baby comes. You used to always talk about going.”

Before I could answer, his phone rang.

“Don Anderson! The dress they sent—I don’t know how to put it on. Come help me.”

“Stay put. I’m coming.”

He paused at the door, looking back at me.

“Evelyn. One month. Wait for me.”

I said nothing.

He signed the papers and left in a hurry.

I went back to the estate, packed my bags, and headed straight for the airport.

Emma waved at me from the terminal, beaming.

The plane lifted off. Everything below—all of it—vanished into the clouds.

Don Anderson. I’m never waiting for you again.

James raced back to the estate, but I was already gone.

“Evelyn?! Where are you? I’m back!”

Yet the only reply came from the maids—a respectful greeting, swallowed by the hollow silence of the empty house.

“Where is Madre?”

“Don Anderson… Madre left a month ago. We didn’t dare ask.”

A cold, terrible realization crept into James’s chest.

Her coldness these past weeks—it wasn’t submission.

It was a heart that had already died.