Woke Up Married to My Mafia Nemesis

"Mama, wake up..."

Something sickly sweet dripped into my mouth.

My eyes shot open.

A little boy, who couldn't have been more than five, was holding a crushed apple juice box, the straw aimed right at my face.

"What the hell?" I shoved the juice away and struggled to sit up.

This wasn't my soft bed in the Valence mansion. It was a dark alley behind a restaurant.

"Mama!" The little boy's gray eyes lit up, and he threw his short arms out to hug me.

I sidestepped him, stunned. "Kid, who the hell are you calling Mama?"

I'm Daisy Valence. Eighteen. The most spoiled daughter of the Valence family.

I've never even held a guy's hand. How could I have a son?

"Is this some new street scam?" I pinched his cheek. "Who sent you? Where are your parents?"

The boy's eyes instantly welled up.

He bit his lip, trying not to cry, but his little hand gripped my sleeve like his life depended on it.

He looked so pathetic, I sighed. I had no choice but to drag him to the nearest police station.

Ten minutes later, I brought him to the precinct.

"Officer, this kid's running a scam on the street. You should probably call child services," I said, dusting off my hands.

The cop at the desk looked up. The moment his eyes landed on my face, he froze.

Less than a minute later, the police chief burst out of his office, sweating bullets.

He didn't even have time to button his uniform properly before giving a deep bow.

"Mrs. Astor! What are you doing here? We weren't notified!"

I frowned. "What did you just call me?"

Astor? The most powerful family in New York?

Lorenzo Astor, the family heir, was my rival. We'd been at each other's throats since we were kids.

Just two days ago, I'd secretly drawn a pig's head on his new sports car.

Calling me Mrs. Astor? That was a goddamn insult.

Just as I was about to lose my temper, a phone rang in the little boy's pocket.

He fumbled it out and hit the answer button.

"Papa," he said, his voice timid.

The boy glanced at me, then whispered, "Mama's awake. She's not hurt. We're at the police station."

A sick feeling started to crawl up my spine.

About fifteen minutes later, three black, armored Maybachs screeched to a halt in front of the station.

A dozen men in black custom suits flooded the lobby.

The crowd parted, and a man walked through.

I stared. His features looked just like my nemesis Lorenzo, but his jaw was sharper, his presence heavier. His usual arrogant swagger was gone.

An Astor elder, maybe?

"Papa!" The little boy launched himself into the man's arms like a cannonball.

Lorenzo bent down, scooping him up with one arm in a move that was smooth and practiced.

Then, his cold, gray eyes looked over his son's head and locked onto me.

"Who… who are you?" His stare made my skin crawl. I took a step back.

Lorenzo's lip curled, but there was no humor in his eyes.

"Daisy, are you done with this little game?" His voice was like ice. "What is it this time? Playing crazy?"

It hit me like a punch to the gut.

His voice… it was exactly like Lorenzo's.

It finally clicked. I asked, my voice trembling, "What… what year is it?"

The police chief, still wiping away sweat, whispered, "Mrs. Astor, it's 2026…"

My brain short-circuited.

I had jumped from 2018, eight years into the future.

And not only was I married to the man I hated most, but we had a four-and-a-half-year-old son.

The inside of the Maybach was dead silent.

I leaned against the window, staring at the little boy in the middle seat.

Leo.

That's what the bodyguards had called him.

He looked so much like me.

The same golden curls and high nose. But those gray eyes and that tense jaw were pure Lorenzo.

Blood is a hell of a thing.

I had no memory of him, but looking at his small, innocent face, I felt a strange flutter in my chest.

My son. My own flesh and blood.

I reached out, wanting to touch his cheek.

"Leo..." I whispered.

But he shrank back into Lorenzo's arms, looking at me with fear in his eyes.

Stung, I pulled my hand back.

So we weren't close. Figures.

Lorenzo shot me a cold glare. He patted Leo's back soothingly but said nothing.

The convoy pulled up to a penthouse duplex overlooking all of Manhattan.

The second we were inside, Lorenzo handed Leo off to a waiting nanny.

"Get him a bath. No one comes out until I say so," Lorenzo commanded. There was no room for argument.

The nanny scurried away with Leo.

The main door slammed shut.

In the next second, a powerful hand clamped around my wrist.

"Lorenzo! You're hurting me!"

He ignored my struggles, dragging me straight into the master bedroom.

BAM!

The dangerous aura of a Don closed in, trapping me in his shadow as he slammed me against the door.

Damn it, I thought. His temper is even worse than before.

"You… you need to calm down. Let me explain—"

Lorenzo stared down at me, a raw pain in his eyes.

"I don't care what game you're playing. But the next time you go to a restaurant for a rendezvous with some street rat, have the decency not to bring my son!"