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All Chapters of Onenight with the Mafia: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

86 Chapters

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

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. “

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

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

15

Maxine’s life had finally begun to follow a rhythm, the kind she once thought she’d never reclaim after that night with Thomas. It wasn’t perfect—not even close—but for the first time in a long while, there was a sense of stability. She’d clawed her way out of that haunting spiral of depression, built a life around her son Noah, her studies, and her job, and though she still carried invisible wounds, they no longer bled at every thought of the past.But even so, the scars throbbed in moments of quiet. Especially in the hours just before sleep, when the world fell silent, and she was left alone with her thoughts. That night with Thomas had twisted her life into something unrecognizable, splintered her dreams into pieces. Sometimes, she thought she had glued them back together. Other times, she feared she was only pretending. No matter how much she smiled or how far she ran, there was always a small, heavy stone of worry lodged somewhere deep inside her. An unnamed fear. A lingering sha

16

Maxine sat at her desk, her hand cramping around her pencil as she stared at the third version of the same layout. Her sketches were sharp, detailed, and precise, but none of it seemed to satisfy Frank Wright. He had been hovering lately, offering too many suggestions, asking for more iterations, pushing for concepts that didn’t quite sit right in her gut.This wasn’t like the previous projects—those were elegant commercial buildings or stylish residential interiors for the wealthy. This one was different. Personal. Obsessively so. It wasn’t just a house. It was a fortress.Maxine was tasked with the early conceptual phase, and at first, she'd been thrilled. Leading the design for a full-scale residential project? It was a huge opportunity, something she’d once dreamed of. But as the details poured in, her excitement curdled into confusion.The house was to be built on a secluded plot of land just outside the city limits, surrounded by trees and accessible by only one winding road. Th

17

Maxine hadn’t expected her schedule to shift so suddenly, but with half the staff either quitting or conveniently falling “sick,” she found herself filling more roles than ever at Frank Wright’s firm. For the past two weeks, she had been working full time—no longer juggling art school on the side, no longer returning home before dusk. Between motherhood, architecture, and sleepless nights, Maxine felt the tension creeping under her skin.And now, to top it off, she had to visit the construction site of the secretive mansion they had been designing.“Do I really have to go?” she asked Frank that morning as she packed her portfolio.Frank didn’t even look up. “Yes. Peter’s waiting. He’ll drive you.”Maxine sighed and grabbed her sketch folder, the familiar unease settling into her stomach. There was something off about this entire project, and today, for the first time, she’d be standing in the middle of it.Peter, cheerful as ever, was already waiting in the parking lot, leaning casual

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

19

The engine hummed beneath his fingertips like a caged beast, quiet and restrained.Damien Thomas Ledger sat in the back seat of the black Mercedes, parked discreetly beneath the veil of trees bordering the estate. He leaned back, his fingers caresses beneath his chin as he watched her.Maxine Green.Even from this distance, he could see the way the wind pulled loose strands of her hair, how she squinted in the bright sunlight as she shaded her eyes and surveyed the skeletal framework of the mansion. She looked older than the last time he'd seen her, but not in a bad way. Stronger. Sharper. Resilient.And yet something in him ached at the sight of her.The last time they’d spoken, it hadn’t really been a conversation. A single night. A mistake, she probably thought. But for him? It was the one time in a long, blood-soaked life where something had felt clean.He hadn’t meant to keep tabs on her.He’d told himself, walk away. Walk away and let her forget.But he couldn’t.It started as a

20

It was a long day at the construction site. My legs were sore, my back ached, and all I wanted was to rest. But the moment I walked through the door of my parents’ house and saw Noah running toward me, his arms flailing, eyes shining with excitement, everything else faded.“Mama!” he called out, crashing into me like a miniature tornado.I dropped my bag and knelt down to catch him in my arms, lifting him despite the ache in my shoulders. His little arms wrapped around my neck, and for a few seconds, I held on tighter than usual. No matter how tired I was, his presence made everything better.“I missed you,” he said, burying his face into my shoulder.“I missed you more, baby.”He pulled away slightly, his cheeks puffed with mock seriousness. “Can we go to the park? Please? Elijah might be there!”“Elijah, huh?” I smiled, brushing his curly hair back. “Let’s go then. But only if you promise to let me sit on the bench for at least ten minutes without dragging me through the playground.

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