The Woman Who Claimed the Mafia Boss’s Baby

“Paul?” Sophia’s voice was a fragile whisper. “What are you doing?”

The older man, whose warm, calloused hands had taught her how to ride a bicycle and bake bread, refused to meet her eyes. His hand trembled slightly around the grip of the pistol, but he didn't lower it.

“I’m sorry, Sophia,” Paul said, his voice thick with regret. “But you were never supposed to survive that night. We’ve all been living on borrowed time.”

“Paul is a pragmatist,” Marcus said, stepping closer, the tap of his cane echoing in the damp underpass. “When he realized your adopted father kept you alive, he knew the war would eventually come to his doorstep. So, he made a deal with me. Information in exchange for immunity.”

Sophia felt the world tilting. Every memory she had of her childhood—every Sunday dinner, every birthday present—was a calculated lie.

Elena clutched Adrian’s jacket, her breath coming in short, terrified gasps. “My son,” she cried out to Marcus. “You said if I did this, you’d let my son go!”

Marcus looked at the pregnant woman with profound boredom. “Your son is fine, Elena. He’s at the orphanage. Which is exactly where your new baby will go once we clear up this family business.”

“Don’t touch her,” Adrian growled, shifting slightly so his body fully eclipsed Sophia.

“Oh, Adrian,” Marcus sighed. “Always playing the tragic hero. You really thought you could hide her from me forever? By marrying her?”

Marcus gestured to Vance. “Kill the boy. Bring my niece to me.”

Vance raised his weapon.

“Paul, please!” Sophia screamed.

Paul closed his eyes.

Suddenly, a deafening roar echoed through the tunnel. It wasn’t a gun. It was the sound of a heavy motorcycle engine screaming at maximum RPM.

A black motorcycle tore down the embankment, entirely bypassing the blockade of cars. The rider, dressed in dark leather, didn't slow down. He aimed the bike directly at Marcus.

Vance spun around, firing at the rider. The rider laid the bike down in a screeching slide, sending the heavy machine skidding like a missile right into Vance and two other guards, knocking them out like bowling pins.

The distraction was all Adrian needed.

He spun, grabbed the barrel of Paul’s gun, and twisted it violently upward. The gun went off, the bullet burying itself in the concrete above them. Adrian drove his elbow into Paul’s jaw, dropping the older man instantly.

“Move!” Adrian yelled, pushing Sophia and Elena toward the shadows of a maintenance tunnel behind the pillar.

They ran into the darkness, the sounds of shouting and gunfire echoing behind them.

Once they were deep inside the pitch-black corridor, Adrian leaned heavily against the damp brick wall, breathing hard.

“Who was that on the motorcycle?” Sophia asked, pulling Elena along.

Adrian reached into his pocket with a trembling hand and pulled out a heavy gold pocket watch. He pressed it into Sophia’s hand. His fingers were slick with something warm.

“Adrian?” Sophia gasped, touching his chest.