The Mafia Lord's Secret Lover (Evelyn) novel Chapter 159

The morning hours slipped away in a joyful whirlwind, filled with bursts of laughter, last-minute touches to the decorations, and the enticing aroma of delicious food mingling with the fresh scent of flowers that adorned every corner of the house.

By the time noon arrived, everything was perfectly arranged for Oliver’s birthday lunch.

In the garden hall, long wooden tables stood ready, decorated with pony-shaped balloons and fresh blooms lining the pathway. The staff moved efficiently and silently, each step choreographed under Jimmy’s watchful eye.

Upstairs, Evelyn knelt beside her son’s wardrobe, quietly observing as Oliver stood before the mirror, his face scrunched in concentration.

“Mommy,” he said thoughtfully, holding up two shirts—one white, the other blue—each stretched out as if presenting undeniable proof. “Which one will make me look older?”

Evelyn blinked, suppressing a smile. “Older? Sweetheart, you’re turning four, not forty.”

Oliver’s frown deepened, clearly unimpressed by her answer. “But Daddy always looks handsome when he wears a shirt. I want to look handsome too.”

“Well, Daddy also looks handsome when he’s grumpy and half asleep, so that’s not a fair comparison,” she teased gently as she rose to help him.

Tilting his head, Oliver pondered. “Then I’ll pick the blue one. Daddy wears blue when he’s angry.”

Evelyn couldn’t hold back her laughter this time.

“He’s not angry—he’s focused. That’s a big difference.” She smoothed the tiny blue shirt over his small shoulders and carefully buttoned it up. “There. My little man looks absolutely perfect.”

Oliver examined himself in the mirror once more, his chest puffed out with pride. “Do you think Daddy will like it?”

“I think Daddy might just faint from pride,” Evelyn replied with mock seriousness. She brushed his hair gently and pressed a soft kiss to the top of his head. “Alright, birthday boy. Time to head downstairs.”

After slipping on his white sneakers, they made their way down the grand staircase, hand in hand.

At the bottom, Axel was waiting, dressed in a tailored black shirt with the sleeves rolled up. His phone was in one hand, but the moment he saw them, he froze—and then burst into genuine, hearty laughter.

“Well, look at that,” Axel said, crouching slightly to meet Oliver’s eyes. “Who is this little gentleman? He looks way too mature to be my boy.”

Oliver beamed. “I’m four today, Daddy!”

Axel placed a hand over his heart in mock disbelief. “Four already? Impossible. You were just a baby yesterday.”

Evelyn smiled warmly. “That’s what happens when you skip too many bedtime stories. He grows up right behind your back.”

Axel shot her a playful glance. “I’ll have to take responsibility for that.”

“Please do,” Evelyn replied sweetly.

Oliver giggled between them. “Daddy, Mommy said you’ll faint when you see me.”

Axel raised an amused eyebrow at Evelyn. “Well, she’s right. You look amazing. But you know what that means?”

Oliver’s eyes grew wide. “What?”

“You’ll have to help me greet all the guests. You’re the host today.”

Oliver nodded proudly. “I will! But only if I get extra cake.”

Evelyn laughed, shaking her head. “Like father, like son.”

They stepped into the living room, where warm sunlight poured through the tall windows, casting a golden glow over everything.

Axel glanced at his phone, his brow lifting slightly. “The guards just told me our first guests have passed the main gate.”

“Already?” Evelyn asked, surprised as she checked her watch—it was only eleven o’clock. “Who is it?”

Alicia stood near the doorway, her expression unreadable. Her eyes were fixed on Oliver, and in that moment, something softened within her.

She stepped forward slowly, almost reverently. Oliver sensed the change in atmosphere and looked to Evelyn uncertainly.

Evelyn nodded encouragingly. “Go on, sweetheart. Say hello to your grandma.”

Oliver approached Alicia shyly, his small steps careful and deliberate. Then, in his usual innocent tone, he said, “He-Hello, Grandma. I’m Oliver.”

Alicia let out a quiet, shaky laugh. “Hi, little one. You’re… so handsome,” she whispered before kneeling to pull him gently into her arms.

Evelyn stood nearby, her hand resting softly on Alicia’s back, offering comfort.

For a moment, silence settled over them—a silence heavy with memories too deep for words.

After a few moments, Alicia finally pulled back, smiling through eyes glistening with tears.

“Oliver, you look so much like your mother did when she was little,” she said softly, her voice trembling with a mixture of happiness and emotion.

Oliver tilted his head curiously. “Really? Did Mommy also like ponies?”

Evelyn laughed quietly from behind him. “No, Mommy liked to boss everyone around.”

Stella gasped dramatically. “Still does, by the way.”

“Careful,” Evelyn warned, narrowing her eyes teasingly at her little sister. “I still have your baby photos.”

“Oops! Sorry, sis…”

The sisters exchanged playful glances, their lighthearted teasing easing the brief tension that had filled the room, bringing warmth back into the space.