Mr. Mafia, Your Baby Girl is Six Years Older Than Me Chapter 05

Mr. Mafia, Your Baby Girl is Six Years Older Than Me Chapter 05

James’s POV

When I told the driver to take me to Brooklyn and barged into that cramped little cheap apartment, Olivia was standing in front of the mirror.

I walked up behind her and adjusted the wine-red couture gown draped across her shoulders.

She looked elegant in it, soft and demure. But all I saw was Evelyn’s silhouette. If Evelyn wore this, she’d outshine her ten times over.

Irritation clawed at me. I stepped aside and fired off an encrypted message to Evelyn.

[I’ve finished the nursery blueprints. We’ll start construction next month after we remarry.]

I hit send, but a “failed to send” notification flashed on the screen.

I stared. Sent again. And again. Every single one bounced back, recipient unavailable.

I called her. Straight to a mechanical busy signal.

I shot to my feet, ready to yell for my assistant, but Olivia looped her arm through mine.

“What’s wrong? Madre Anderson blocked you?”

Her voice dripped with soothing sympathy. “Don’t panic. You just dropped divorce papers on her today. Of course she’s throwing a tantrum. That’s women’s usual game, blocking and deleting contacts, just waiting for you to grovel and smooth things over.

“I think Madre Anderson’s far too hot-headed. Leave her to stew for a while, she’ll turn up teary-eyed, wanting to make amends before long.”

She leaned in with a coy pout and kissed me, her teeth grazing my lower lip.

“You promised me this whole month. You can’t back out just because she’s pitching a fit.”

Her voice pulled me back to reality.

I thought about it. She had a point.

After all, every time Evelyn blows up, it’s nothing but big threats with no real bite.

And she loved me too much to ever really leave.

On Olivia’s birthday, I threw her a lavish party at an exclusive club on Wall Street.

At the peak of the night, I dropped to one knee in front of her neighbors in Westbrink and proposed.

The lights blurred. For a second, Evelyn seemed to drift into my view. Draped in white veil, smiling gently.

Years ago, I was just the disgraced bastard son of the Anderson family.

My wedding to Evelyn was a joke—no frills, cheap confetti, a free chapel, and silver bands that cost barely a hundred bucks.

I remembered promising her that once I took control of the family, I’d give her the grandest, most magnificent wedding of all.

Years had passed. I never kept that promise.

A strange dread coiled in my chest.

“Don Anderson! I do!”

Olivia’s voice yanked me back.

The woman in front of me was dripping in designer gowns and piled with jewels as if they cost her nothing at all.

I frowned at all that glitter. Since when did Olivia—soft, gentle Olivia—turn so gaudy?

The birthday ended in a blaze of fireworks.

The next morning, Olivia dragged me straight to City Hall.

I stared at the fresh marriage certificate in my hands. No joy. I bought a townhouse in Fairhaven to settle her in.

“Stay here from now on. Don’t come back to the Anderson estate.”

“Evelyn won’t be happy to see you.”

Olivia’s face tightened. Her eyes welled up in an instant.

“Did I do something wrong? Did I upset you?”

Her tears softened me. I let out a breath and murmured, “Don’t overthink it. I can’t keep you working as a maid there. I said I’d protect you.”

“This month, whatever you want to do, I’ll be with you. Okay?”

She nodded, wrapping her arms around me.

Then she tested the waters, voice small. “Don Anderson… I wish I could be your wife forever. Not just one month.”

My body went stiff. My voice dropped cold.

“Olivia. Don’t say things like that.”

A flash of resentment crossed her eyes. She bit her lip and pushed harder.

“Why? Because Madre Anderson’s carrying your child?”

She put on that wounded look, waiting for me to soothe her.

But this time, her tricks didn’t work.

“It’s late. Get some sleep. I’ll come see you tomorrow. Don’t reach for positions that aren’t yours.”