Get Out of My Way! The Heiress Slapped the Curvy Pregnant Waitress in Front of the Mafia Boss

The next morning, sunlight poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the primary guest suite at the Romano Estate.

Abigail awoke in a plush king-sized bed covered in Egyptian cotton sheets. For a moment, she thought she was dreaming. There were no noisy sirens outside, no dripping pipes, and no cold draft seeping through broken window seals.

A knock sounded at the door, and a maid in a crisp uniform entered carrying a silver tray laden with fresh berries, organic eggs, avocado toast, and freshly squeezed orange juice.

“Good morning, Miss Foster,” the maid said respectfully. “Mr. Romano requested that you eat in bed, but if you prefer the dining balcony, he is waiting for you there.”

Ten minutes later, dressed in a comfortable, soft cashmere sweater dress provided by Isabella, Abigail walked out onto the marble terrace overlooking Narragansett Bay.

Matteo sat at a round glass table, sipping dark coffee while reading a thick dossier. When he saw her, he immediately stood up, pulling out a chair for her.

“Did you sleep well?” he asked softly.

“Better than I have in years,” Abigail admitted, taking a seat. “Thank you, Matteo.”

“Good.” Matteo closed the dossier, pushing it to the side. “I have spent the morning addressing several administrative matters regarding your former life.”

Abigail raised an eyebrow. “Administrative matters?”

“Your landlord on East Baseline,” Matteo said calmly, taking a sip of his coffee. “He was charging you triple the market rate for a unit with code violations. As of eight o’clock this morning, my legal team purchased the building. He has been served with a lawsuit for tenant harassment, and your lease has been terminated without penalty.”

Abigail’s jaw dropped. “You bought my building?”

“It was inefficient to deal with him through standard channels,” Matteo replied casually, as if buying an apartment complex were no more complicated than ordering a sandwich. “Also, your medical bills at Boston General have been cleared. Every doctor, specialist, and delivery room cost for your baby’s birth is fully pre-paid.”

Abigail sat frozen, her eyes welling with tears. “I... I don't know how to repay you.”

“You already paid seven years ago, Abigail,” Matteo said, his grey eyes locking onto hers with deep sincerity. “Now it is my turn.”

Before Abigail could respond, Marco walked onto the terrace, holding a secure satellite phone. His face was grim.

“Boss,” Marco said quietly. “Richard Sinclair is downstairs in the lower reception lobby. He brought three senior board members from the Harbor Authority. He demands an audience.”

Matteo’s expression instantly turned to stone. The warmth in his eyes vanished, replaced by the lethal authority of the mob patriarch.

“Does he?” Matteo asked softly.

“He claims his daughter was provoked and that you are sabotaging a hundred-million-dollar municipal deal,” Marco added.

Matteo stood up, smoothing his tailored suit jacket. He looked down at Abigail, his voice softening once more. “Finish your breakfast, Abigail. Isabella will be up shortly to take you shopping for baby clothes. I have a minor meeting to attend.”

“Matteo,” Abigail called out gently as he turned to leave. “Please... don't do anything illegal on my account.”