Mr. Mafia, Your Baby Girl is Six Years Older Than Me Chapter 06

Mr. Mafia, Your Baby Girl is Six Years Older Than Me Chapter 06

James’s POV

I shook her off and turned to leave.

Olivia lunged forward, wrapping her arms around my waist, her voice breaking.

“I’m sorry, I said something stupid. You gave me your word before so just let me be selfish for a little while, okay?”

“Even if I have to be the other woman after this, or just your mistress, I’ll take it all. Don Anderson, I’m just that hopelessly in love with you.”

Her tears soaked through the back of my shirt.

For reasons I couldn’t explain, I stayed.

I told myself it was just one month. Evelyn had grown more forgiving. I’d smooth things over when I got back.

I didn’t set foot in the estate for the entire month.

I took Olivia to Iceland to see the northern lights. To Africa for the animal migrations.

But the longer it went, the harder it got. I caught myself checking my encrypted phone more and more.

That chat window that used to light up constantly—silent. No response. Nothing.

When the month finally ended, I let out a long breath. Relief washed over me.

I rushed back to the estate.

“Evelyn?! Where are you? I’m home!”

Only the maids answered. Silence filled the rest of the house.

“Where’s Madre?”

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

I walked in, dazed. That’s when I saw it. All her things had gone.

The throw pillows from the living room. The paintings she’d hung on the walls—her own work. Gone.

I wouldn’t accept it. I stormed into the master bedroom and wrenched open the closet.

Empty. Her clothes. Her skincare on the vanity.

All of it. Wiped out like it never existed.

A horrible understanding crashed over me.

Evelyn’s coldness lately—it wasn’t obedience. It was her heart dying. She was really planning to leave me.

No. Impossible.

Evelyn loved me with her whole being. She’d stuck with me through the worst times. She’d always put me first. There was no way she’d just left like that.

I tore through the estate like a madman, searching for any trace of her.

That’s when Olivia walked in behind me. She scanned the half-empty rooms, barely hiding her delight, and wrapped herself around me from behind.

“Don Anderson, even if Madre left you, I’ll always be here. I’ll never leave.”

I shoved her off. My palm cracked across her face.

“Shut up! She didn’t leave. She’s just angry. She’s waiting for me to find her.”

Olivia’s head snapped to the side. She stood frozen, hand pressed to her cheek.

“You… you hit me?”

My voice came out like ice.

“We’re going to City Hall. Right now. Filing for divorce.”

Her face twisted with defiance. Tears spilled as she screamed.

“No! You love me! Why are you doing this?!”

“Madre Anderson is gone! She left you! She doesn’t want you anymore! Isn’t this what we wanted? To be together without hiding?!”

I couldn’t hear her. I grabbed her wrist and dragged her toward the door.

“Let go of me! I’m pregnant!” Olivia shrieked.

I stopped dead. I turned and stared at her.

“You didn’t take the pills?”

She saw her opening. Tears streaming, she clutched me.

“Madre Anderson lost the baby months ago, didn’t you know? I’m carrying your child now. And we’re legally married. Isn’t that enough?”

“Don Anderson—I’m the one who truly loves you.”

It hit me like a freight train. My eyes went wide.

“Evelyn miscarried? When? Why didn’t anyone tell me?!”

I dialed my assistant like a madman, barking orders to dig up the truth.

Security burst in, pulling Olivia toward the door.

She panicked.

“Don Anderson! What are you doing?! You’re the one who sent Madre to the correctional facility! You’re the one who cheated!”

“Don’t act like you care now! Let go of me! Don’t you dare lay a hand on my child!”

I didn’t hear a word. My mind was blank.

My assistant was efficient. An hour later, a surveillance video landed on my phone.

In it, Olivia poured a massive dose of abortion pills into Evelyn’s breakfast.

One bite, and Evelyn was doubled over in agony, blood pouring from her like a river.

At the ghostly pallor of her face in that frame, my chest caved.

What had I done?

I’d thrown her into the correctional facility for an entire month—without asking a single question.

Regret crashed over me in a tidal wave.

Evelyn. I was wrong.