Get Out of My Way! The Heiress Slapped the Curvy Pregnant Waitress in Front of the Mafia Boss

The confrontation was over in less than sixty seconds.

Before Sinclair’s hired men could raise their weapons, Lucas and the Romano security team swept through the hallway, disarming and neutralizing the threats with terrifying precision.

Sinclair dropped to his knees, crying and pleading for mercy as Lucas dragged him away into the dark night to await the judgment of the city's council.

Matteo didn't even watch Sinclair leave. His entire focus was on the woman standing at the end of the hall.

He sprinted up the final flight of stairs, dropping his weapon onto the floor, and pulled Abigail into his arms. He held her tightly against his chest, his heart hammering wildly against his ribs, his face buried in her dark hair.

"Are you hurt? Did he touch you?" Matteo rasped, his voice shaking with a rare, raw vulnerability that Abigail had never heard before.

"I'm okay, Matteo," Abigail whispered, wrapping her arms around his neck, sinking into his warmth. "I'm okay. You came back."

"I will always come back to you," Matteo swore softly, lifting his head to look at her. His hands gently cupped her face, his thumbs wiping away a stray tear. "When they told me Sinclair was heading here... I felt my soul rip in half, Abigail. I realized that without you, this empire, my money, my life... none of it means anything."

Abigail looked up into his hazel eyes, seeing the profound, fierce devotion burning within them. All her doubts, all her fears about his dark world vanished in that single moment.

"I love you, Matteo," Abigail whispered, the words escaping her lips naturally and truthfully.

Matteo froze, his breath catching in his throat. A slow, breathtaking smile broke across his rugged features.

"Say it again," he murmured against her skin.

"I love you," she repeated, smiling through her tears.

Matteo didn't answer with words. He leaned down and captured her lips in a deep, passionate kiss. It was filled with months of unspoken longing, fierce protection, and an unbreakable vow. Abigail melted into the kiss, her fingers twisting into his dark hair, knowing with absolute certainty that she was home.

Three weeks later, on a peaceful Sunday morning, the sound of a baby’s cry filled the top floor of the hospital.

Matteo stood beside the bed, holding Abigail’s hand tightly as she rested against the pillows. In her arms lay a beautiful, healthy baby boy with a thick tuft of dark hair and sharp, bright hazel eyes.

Isabella stood at the foot of the bed, wiping tears from her eyes as she looked at her new nephew.

"He looks just like his father," Isabella laughed softly.

Matteo looked down at the tiny child in Abigail’s arms, a profound sense of peace settling over his heart. He reached out, his broad finger gently stroking the baby’s tiny cheek.

"What are we going to name him?" Matteo asked softly, looking up at Abigail.