All Chapters of Onenight with the Mafia: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

Maxine sat in the library with her laptop open, her textbooks stacked high around her, but she wasn’t reading. Her pen had been hovering above her notebook for the last ten minutes, unmoving. The words on the page blurred in front of her eyes, replaced by the same relentless thought that had been haunting her: What am I supposed to do about Thomas?She had gone over every possibility, every scenario, and every outcome in her mind. If he had been an ordinary man, she might have allowed him visitation, at least occasionally. After all, she had never once wished to deprive Noah of knowing his father. But Thomas wasn’t ordinary. His life, from what little she could piece together, was drenched in danger. There was an aura about him that spoke of violence and secrets, scars she didn’t want her son anywhere near. Allowing him into Noah’s life was opening a door she had worked so hard to keep sealed shut. But the law wasn’t on her side—not if Thomas truly wanted to push for rights. And she d

Maxine sat in the driver’s seat, staring at the road ahead with both hands clenched tightly on the steering wheel. Her knuckles had gone pale, but she barely noticed. Her heart had been heavy all morning, weighed down by the thought of what she was about to do. Noah, sitting in the back seat, swung his little legs happily, humming a tune that he had probably picked up from one of his cartoons. He was blissfully unaware of the storm that brewed in his mother’s chest. Maxine glanced at him in the rearview mirror and forced herself to smile. For his sake, she had to look calm, even if she was falling apart inside.The restaurant loomed into view, a cozy family place she had chosen deliberately—public, safe, full of other families. Thomas was already there, waiting for them near the entrance. He stood leaning casually against the wall, dressed in a dark shirt and trousers that made him look every bit the man she remembered—powerful, commanding, dangerous, yet heartbreakingly familiar. The

Maxine knew she couldn’t keep it from her parents any longer. The guilt had been gnawing at her for days, sitting like a heavy stone in her chest every time her mother asked about Noah’s school or his new routine. She was tired of lying by omission, tired of holding back the truth that had been burning in her throat since the day she decided to let Thomas see their son. That evening, after dinner, she gathered the courage she had been trying to summon all week and finally told them.Her mother looked surprised at first, her fork pausing midair as Maxine’s words sank in. Her father, on the other hand, leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable, his eyes steady on hers.“So you’ve finally decided,” he said after a long moment, his tone neither approving nor angry—just calm, as though he had seen this coming all along.Her mother was the first to speak again, her tone softer. “It’s good that you’ve made up your mind, sweetheart. It’s better this way than keeping him away from hi

The rest of the evening, Maxine thought it best to keep her mouth shut and avoid asking Thomas about his life. Every question she wanted to ask died on her lips before it could find a voice. There were too many things she didn’t know about him—too many shadows surrounding his existence—and she had learned long ago that curiosity could sometimes be dangerous. Especially when it came to Thomas.Instead, she busied herself with small, meaningless observations. The sound of rain tapping gently against the floor-to-ceiling windows. The distant hum of the city beneath the penthouse. The faint ticking of a wall clock that seemed to count every passing second of the uneasy peace between them.Thomas was sitting on the floor beside Noah, showing him the new toys he had bought—cars, action figures, and a wooden puzzle that looked far too expensive for a child his age. Noah’s eyes gleamed with pure excitement, his little hands darting from one toy to another as he giggled with delight.“Uncle, l

Noah had always been a chatterbox, but lately, his words carried more weight than Maxine could handle. Over dinner one evening, he began animatedly telling her parents about his visits to Thomas’s place — the large penthouse with a view of the skyline, the mountain of toys stacked in one corner of the living room, and how “Uncle Thomas” made the best orange juice. Maxine froze mid-bite, her fork hovering in the air as her parents exchanged delighted glances.“Oh, so he’s got a nice place then?” her father asked with genuine curiosity, clearly trying to picture this man who had suddenly stepped back into their daughter’s and grandson’s lives. Her mother smiled warmly, “At least he’s doing something for Noah. It’s good that he wants to be part of his life now.”Maxine forced a smile, her insides churning. “Yes… maybe,” she murmured, pushing her plate away. It wasn’t that she didn’t want Noah to have a father figure — it was the thought of Thomas, of his dangerous connections and shadowe