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10

Author: Rachel
last update Last Updated: 2025-04-20 20:15:34

Mornings started early in Maxine’s world now. Sometimes too early. The soft cries of Noah roused her before dawn, and even though exhaustion weighed her limbs, she moved. She always moved. With muscle memory and motherly instinct, she reached for him, whispered gentle words, and soothed his small body with her touch.

The dorm wasn’t built for motherhood. The space was tight, the walls thin. But somehow, it became a home. Kristen helped rearrange furniture to give Noah a little more space, brought fairy lights and secondhand rugs to brighten the room, and even learned how to warm formula bottles without scalding them.

It wasn’t perfect. Some nights, Maxine cried while Noah cried. She'd press her face into a pillow, letting out the frustration and fear she didn’t want to show anyone. She missed having two hands free. She missed having time to think about something other than bottles, burping, diapers, and due dates. She missed the version of herself that existed before—but she didn’t wa
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    Chapter TwelveTwo years had passed since Maxine became a mother, and though time had marched forward, it hadn't made things easier. If anything, it had layered new challenges on top of the old ones. Noah was now a toddler—lively, curious, and utterly exhausting. He ran through rooms like a whirlwind, leaving chaos in his wake and joy in her heart. But love didn’t pay bills, and joy didn’t make ends meet.Maxine worked tirelessly, stringing together part-time jobs while her parents helped watch Noah. She waited tables at a cafe three days a week, assisted in the university’s art lab twice a week, and picked up freelance sketch commissions late into the night. Her dreams of becoming an architect hadn’t faded, but they had been forced to coexist with a reality that left little room for luxury.Her parents had become her safety net. Her mother, always nurturing, handled daycare duty when Maxine’s shifts overlapped. Her father—now more involved than she could’ve hoped for—took to feeding N

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    The call came on a Thursday morning, just as Maxine was coaxing a sleepy Noah into his tiny corduroy overalls. Her phone buzzed with a number she didn’t recognize. Expecting it to be one of her freelance clients, she answered with a tired but polite, “Hello?”A deep voice responded, clipped and formal. “Miss Green. This is Frank Wright’s office. Mr. Wright has reviewed your interview and portfolio. He’d like to offer you the internship. You’ll start Monday at 9 a.m.”For a second, the world stood still.“I got it?” she whispered, more to herself than the voice on the other end.“Yes. Congratulations,” came the reply, curt but sincere. “We’ve emailed the onboarding documents. Please be punctual. Mr. Wright values time.”The call ended just as quickly as it came. Maxine stood frozen, the phone still pressed to her ear. Then, slowly, she turned to look at Noah, who was chewing on the strap of his overalls.“I got the job,” she breathed, then let out a laugh—light and full of disbelief. “

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Latest chapter

  • Onenight with the Mafia   18

    Construction on the mansion was in full swing now.Maxine found herself visiting the site more often than she needed to—not just for work, but because she wanted to see her ideas slowly transform into walls, beams, archways, and shadows. There was something sacred about watching your vision take form. Every time she stepped onto the site, something new was standing there. And strangely, it always felt... familiar.She’d worked on many buildings over the past year—apartment renovations, office floor plans, even a library extension—but none had spoken to her soul like this one. As intimidating as its purpose and scale were, something about the space resonated with her own taste. The high ceilings, the gentle flow between rooms, the hidden doors... She would never admit it out loud, but in some strange way, it felt like her house.One evening, as she wandered through what would become the central hallway, a thought struck her with such force that she froze mid-step.One day... I want to

  • Onenight with the Mafia   17

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  • Onenight with the Mafia   15

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  • Onenight with the Mafia   14

    The weeks at Frank Wright’s firm settled into a rhythm—one that was relentless, fast-paced, and often emotionally draining. Maxine often felt like she was on a treadmill she couldn’t step off, constantly balancing motherhood, her internship, and her studies, all while trying not to lose herself in the process.But amid the chaos, Peter became a steady presence.He was the first person she saw each morning when she walked through the tall glass doors of the firm. Always with a smirk, always with a sarcastic comment about Frank’s mood for the day.“Brace yourself,” he’d whisper conspiratorially one morning. “Frank’s in a ‘burn everything’ kind of mood.”Maxine had chuckled despite herself. Peter was like that—irreverent, charming in a chaotic kind of way, and always seemingly at ease even in the most stressful situations. She liked that about him. He had this energy that cut through tension and made people feel less alone.Over time, the banter between them grew. They worked closely on

  • Onenight with the Mafia   13

    Balancing the life of a student, intern, and mother was like juggling knives on a tightrope—and Maxine Green was always just one misstep away from everything crashing down.Her days began before the sun had even stretched across the sky. At 5:30 a.m., she was up, brushing her teeth while packing Noah’s snacks, ironing her clothes in the dim light of the kitchen, and gulping down weak coffee while bouncing a half-awake toddler on her hip. Noah, now three and filled with a thousand questions, had his own rhythm—a rhythm that didn’t always match hers.“Do you have to go, Mama?” he would ask with wide, sleepy eyes as she buttoned up her coat.Her heart would squeeze every time.“Just for a little while, baby. I’ll be back before you know it.”She would drop him off with her mother, offer a rushed kiss on the cheek, and sprint toward the bus stop with her bag over one shoulder and her dreams packed inside it like precious cargo.Frank Wright’s firm was no place for weakness. The atmosphere

  • Onenight with the Mafia   12

    The call came on a Thursday morning, just as Maxine was coaxing a sleepy Noah into his tiny corduroy overalls. Her phone buzzed with a number she didn’t recognize. Expecting it to be one of her freelance clients, she answered with a tired but polite, “Hello?”A deep voice responded, clipped and formal. “Miss Green. This is Frank Wright’s office. Mr. Wright has reviewed your interview and portfolio. He’d like to offer you the internship. You’ll start Monday at 9 a.m.”For a second, the world stood still.“I got it?” she whispered, more to herself than the voice on the other end.“Yes. Congratulations,” came the reply, curt but sincere. “We’ve emailed the onboarding documents. Please be punctual. Mr. Wright values time.”The call ended just as quickly as it came. Maxine stood frozen, the phone still pressed to her ear. Then, slowly, she turned to look at Noah, who was chewing on the strap of his overalls.“I got the job,” she breathed, then let out a laugh—light and full of disbelief. “

  • Onenight with the Mafia   11

    Chapter TwelveTwo years had passed since Maxine became a mother, and though time had marched forward, it hadn't made things easier. If anything, it had layered new challenges on top of the old ones. Noah was now a toddler—lively, curious, and utterly exhausting. He ran through rooms like a whirlwind, leaving chaos in his wake and joy in her heart. But love didn’t pay bills, and joy didn’t make ends meet.Maxine worked tirelessly, stringing together part-time jobs while her parents helped watch Noah. She waited tables at a cafe three days a week, assisted in the university’s art lab twice a week, and picked up freelance sketch commissions late into the night. Her dreams of becoming an architect hadn’t faded, but they had been forced to coexist with a reality that left little room for luxury.Her parents had become her safety net. Her mother, always nurturing, handled daycare duty when Maxine’s shifts overlapped. Her father—now more involved than she could’ve hoped for—took to feeding N

  • Onenight with the Mafia   10

    Mornings started early in Maxine’s world now. Sometimes too early. The soft cries of Noah roused her before dawn, and even though exhaustion weighed her limbs, she moved. She always moved. With muscle memory and motherly instinct, she reached for him, whispered gentle words, and soothed his small body with her touch.The dorm wasn’t built for motherhood. The space was tight, the walls thin. But somehow, it became a home. Kristen helped rearrange furniture to give Noah a little more space, brought fairy lights and secondhand rugs to brighten the room, and even learned how to warm formula bottles without scalding them.It wasn’t perfect. Some nights, Maxine cried while Noah cried. She'd press her face into a pillow, letting out the frustration and fear she didn’t want to show anyone. She missed having two hands free. She missed having time to think about something other than bottles, burping, diapers, and due dates. She missed the version of herself that existed before—but she didn’t wa

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