Chapter 7 - The Mafia Boss Who Once Couldn't Trust Anyone Asked Me to Marry Him, but I Was Afraid His Family Would Always See Me as the MaidI loved Gideon.
That was the truth.
But loving him came with history.
His family had been powerful for generations.
I had cleaned their floors.
I had carried their laundry.
I had slept in a small room downstairs.
Now I sat beside him at board meetings.
People watched.
Some whispered.
One executive resigned because he couldn't accept me.
Gideon defended me.
I didn't ask him to.
He did it anyway.
“You work for me,” he told the board.
“No.”
He corrected himself.
“She works with me.”
That difference mattered.
He proposed at the lake house.
No diamonds.
No cameras.
Just a ring.
“I know what this will cost you,” I said.
“Nothing.”
“Your family.”
“They've cost me enough.”
I smiled through tears.
“What if they hate me?”
“Then we live without their approval.”
“What if they hate you?”
“Then they can get in line.”
I laughed.
“Yes.”
We married quietly.
Elena stood beside me.
Marco sent a letter.
He apologized.
I forgave him.
Not for everything.
But for trying to save Gideon's life.
The company became a legitimate logistics firm.
The foundation expanded.
We funded medical research into toxic exposure.
We created scholarships for workers.
The old mansion became a private residence.
No armed men at every door.
No secret rooms.
No hidden accounts.
It finally felt like a home.
Then I found out I was pregnant.
Gideon cried.
I laughed.
“You're crying.”
“No.”
“You are.”
“I have allergies.”
“To happiness?”
“Yes.”
We were happy.
For several months.
Until a package arrived.
Inside was a photograph.
A baby.
Gideon.
The photo was twenty years old.
On the back:
THE FIRST HEIR WAS NEVER THE REAL HEIR.
Gideon stared.
“What does that mean?”
I didn't know.
The answer arrived two days later.
A DNA report.
Gideon wasn't the biological son of his father.
His father had been sterile.
Someone else was his biological father.
The report named a man.
My father.
I stared at Gideon.
He stared at me.
Our families had been connected long before we knew.
My father and Gideon's father had shared a secret.
Gideon was part Mercer.
I was part Vitali.
The family history was more complicated than either of us imagined.
And the baby I carried represented a union nobody could control.
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That made us a target.
Again.
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