35 "The Poor Maid’s Baby Crawled Into the Mafia Boss’s Office — But What He Decided to Do Next Was…

Just as peace seemed to finally settle over our lives, an unexpected ghost from my past emerged to test everything we had built.

It was a cold Tuesday morning in November. Alessandro was at a high-level meeting in Wall Street, leaving me and Mia at the penthouse under the protection of Marco and two security guards.

The internal house phone rang. It was Raymond from the front desk.

"Miss Elena," Raymond said, his voice sounding hesitant and tense. "There is a man down here in the lobby claiming to be your ex-fiancé. A Mr. Julian Vance. He is causing a scene, insisting he has a legal right to see you and your daughter."

My blood ran cold. Julian.

Julian was Mia’s biological father—the man who had abandoned me the moment the pregnancy test came back positive eight months ago. He had wiped his hands of us, blocked my phone number, and left me to starve in a cold apartment.

"Send him away, Raymond," I said, my voice trembling with sudden anger. "I have nothing to say to him."

"I tried, Miss Elena," Raymond replied nervously. "But he brought a local news reporter and a family law attorney with him. He’s shouting in the lobby that Alessandro Duca kidnapped his daughter and forced you into servitude."

My jaw dropped in sheer shock. Julian was trying to play a dangerous public shakedown game, leveraging Alessandro’s notorious reputation to extort a massive financial payout.

I looked at Marco, who was already standing by the doorway, his hand resting on his radio.

"I heard, Miss Elena," Marco said coldly. "I can have my men take Mr. Vance into a quiet room in the basement and resolve this permanently."

"No!" I said quickly, standing up. "No violence, Marco. That’s exactly what he wants. He wants a scandal so he can sue Alessandro for millions."

I took a deep breath, clutching my hands into tight fists. "Bring him up. I will deal with him myself."

Five minutes later, the elevator doors opened into the penthouse foyer.

Julian Vance stepped out, wearing an expensive suit he clearly couldn't afford, accompanied by a sleazy-looking attorney in a grey coat. Julian looked around the breathtaking penthouse with hungry, greedy eyes, his jaw practically dropping at the sheer luxury surrounding him.

"Elena!" Julian called out, putting on a dramatic, concerned face. "My God, Elena! Look at what he’s done to you! Are you okay? Is Mia okay?"

I stood in the center of the living room, flanked by Marco, my posture rigid, my eyes cold as ice.

"Stop acting, Julian," I said, my voice cutting through his drama like a glass blade. "You abandoned me when I was three weeks pregnant. You told me to get rid of her. You haven't paid a single dollar of child support, nor have you ever asked if we were alive."

Julian’s face flinched briefly, but his attorney stepped forward, pulling out a folder.

"Miss Carter," the attorney spoke up pompously, "my client was under extreme emotional distress at the time. However, as the biological father, he has full parental rights. We are prepared to file for full custody of Mia Vance, citing your residence in the home of a known criminal figure—unless, of course, an out-of-court settlement can be reached."

"Settlement?" I laughed bitterly. "You mean extortion."

"Call it what you want," Julian sneered, dropping his fake concerned act, a greedy smile spreading across his face. "Duca is worth billions. Five million dollars, Elena. Tell your mobster boyfriend to pay me five million, and I’ll sign away all parental rights and walk away forever. Otherwise, I go to the press today and brand him a child kidnapper."