I ACCIDENTALLY SLEPT WITH MAFIA DAUGHTER AND MY EX STEP MOM

Rain slid from the edge of Silverwood University’s rooftop in uneven streams, striking the pavement four floors below with hollow taps that sounded almost like a countdown. In the middle of the crowded hallway, Ethan Vale stood still while quiet laughter rippled around him. Not the loud kind. The restrained kind. The kind people used when they wanted you to hear it. His fingers tightened around the strap of his worn black satchel. The leather had peeled at the corners long ago, and one of the zippers no longer closed completely. The sleeve of his faded gray hoodie was frayed near the wrist from years of rubbing against cheap desks and bus windows. And everyone noticed. Silverwood University was built for the wealthy. Students arrived in imported sports cars, wore watches that cost more than most monthly salaries, and discussed stock investments between lectures as casually as weather forecasts. Wealth drifted through the campus like expensive perfume subtle, unavoidable, suffocating. Ethan never belonged there. Which was exactly why people remembered him. “Hey, Vale,” a voice called from behind him. “Your shoe’s falling apart again.” A few students snickered. Ethan glanced calmly at the loose sole hanging from his sneaker before lifting his gaze again. “Thanks,” he replied dryly. “You probably saved my life.” A couple of students choked back laughter. The blond boy leaning against the lockers straightened with visible irritation. Daniel Mercer. Son of a real estate tycoon. Perfect hair, perfect teeth, perfectly polished arrogance. “You know,” Daniel said casually, “there’s a donation center near campus for struggling students.” More laughter followed. Ethan smiled faintly. “Great,” he said. “Maybe they can donate you a personality.” This time the laughter shifted direction. Daniel’s smile vanished. People loved arrogance until someone humiliated the arrogant. Before the situation could worsen, Ethan walked past him with relaxed shoulders and steady steps, ignoring the tension trailing behind him like smoke. Growing up poor had taught him something important: Humiliation only worked if you reacted to it. The hallway widened into the university’s central atrium, sunlight pouring through towering glass walls overlooking the city skyline. Groups of students drifted across polished marble floors in designer coats and expensive shoes, their conversations blending into meaningless noise. Ethan exhaled slowly. One more semester. That was all he needed. Protect his scholarship. Graduate. Find work. Help his mother,,,, Simple. At least, it had been simple before he saw her. Vivian Laurent. The atmosphere shifted the instant she entered the building. Conversations lowered instinctively. Heads turned without thought. She walked through the hallway with effortless elegance, black heels clicking softly against marble floors. A long dark coat rested perfectly over a cream turtleneck and tailored trousers that probably cost more than Ethan’s rent for six months. Beautiful wasn’t enough to describe her. Vivian Laurent looked dangerous. Cold. Untouchable. Dark hair framed sharp, flawless features softened only slightly by rose colored lips and calm gray eyes that revealed absolutely nothing. Everything about her carried control and distance, as though emotions were beneath her. Nearby, two girls whispered under their breath. “She rejected some CEO’s son last month.” “I heard he transferred schools afterward.” “She terrifies me.” “She terrifies everyone.” Vivian ignored the attention naturally, as if admiration were simply background noise she’d heard her entire life. Then her eyes landed on Ethan. And stopped. The air between them cooled instantly. Neither spoke. They didn’t need to. Three months earlier, Ethan had publicly dismantled her argument during a national debate competition after exposing manipulated statistics in her presentation. At the time, he hadn’t known who she was. Vivian Laurent, however, never forgot humiliation. Especially from someone she considered beneath her. She walked toward him slowly. The hallway grew quieter with every step. Ethan remained still. Vivian stopped directly in front of him, her gaze traveling once over his appearance from his damaged sneakers to the exhaustion lingering beneath his dark eyes. “You still attend this university?” she asked coolly. Ethan smiled slightly. “And you still talk like you own it.” A dangerous silence followed. Students nearby pretended not to stare while listening to every word. Vivian stepped closer. “You should learn your place eventually.” “And you should learn that not everyone cares about your last name.” The tension sharpened. Then, unexpectedly, Vivian smiled. It wasn’t warm. It was the kind of smile someone wore moments before destroying something. “Careful,” she said softly. “Pride looks embarrassing on poor people.” Then she walked past him without another glance. Her perfume lingered briefly in the air soft, elegant, expensive,her hips swaying sideways like a professional model. Ethan stared ahead silently. Annoying woman. Beautiful woman. Terrifying woman. He hated that all three thoughts existed at the same time. ***** By evening, rain hammered against the city in silver sheets. Ethan stepped out of the subway station near the poorer district, pulling his hood over his dark hair as cold wind swept through the streets. The glittering towers downtown disappeared here, replaced by flickering neon signs, cramped convenience stores, and tiny restaurants glowing warmly against wet sidewalks. Home. His apartment building looked as exhausted as the people living inside it. Inside, dim hallway lights flickered weakly overhead. Ethan entered quietly and found his mother asleep on the couch beneath a thin blanket, the television murmuring softly in the background. His chest tightened immediately. She looked smaller lately. Frailer. Too tired. A pile of unpaid medical bills rested beside a cold cup of tea on the table. Ethan picked them up silently. Past due. Again. He closed his eyes for a moment, forcing himself to breathe evenly. Then his phone rang. Unknown number. He almost ignored it. “Hello?” “Mr. Ethan Vale?” A woman’s calm professional voice answered. “Yes.” “You’ve been requested at the Laurent Estate tomorrow evening.” Ethan frowned. “…Excuse me?” “The family wishes to discuss matters concerning your future.” “My future?” “Yes.” The line disconnected before he could ask another question. Ethan lowered the phone slowly. Laurent Estate. Vivian’s family. Nothing involving people that wealthy ever ended well. ***** The Laurent Estate looked less like a residence and more like a private kingdom. Massive iron gates towered over marble fountains illuminated by golden lights. Security guards stood at every entrance. Luxury dripped from every corner of the property with almost vulgar confidence. Tomorrow evening around 6.25pm,,Ethan stepped out of the taxi wearing the only formal clothes he owned, black slacks, polished dress shoes, and a charcoal coat old enough to reveal its age despite his careful effort. Even so, several servants near the entrance glanced at him twice. Because Ethan Vale, despite his circumstances, was unfairly attractive. Tall. Lean. Sharp jawline. Dark eyes filled with restrained emotion. The kind of face people remembered. Which only made his poverty stand out more. A servant guided him through enormous hallways lined with oil paintings, crystal chandeliers, and gold trimmed walls until they reached an extravagant dining chamber. Several people already sat at the long table. Businessmen. Elegant women. Advisors. And his night mare ,,, Vivian. She looked breathtaking tonight. A black silk dress wrapped around her figure with effortless sophistication, diamond earrings catching the chandelier light each time she moved. But the moment she saw Ethan, her expression hardened. Confusion first. Then irritation. “What is he doing here?” she asked immediately. At the head of the table sat Richard Laurent. Vivian’s father. Power radiated from him quietly, the kind built over decades of wealth and influence. “Sit down, Ethan,” he said calmly. Ethan obeyed cautiously. Something felt wrong. Very wrong. Richard folded his hands together. “Your father once saved my life.” Ethan blinked. “My father knew you?” “Yes.” Richard’s expression remained unreadable. “When he died, I made a promise to repay that debt.” Vivian frowned slightly. “Father…” Richard ignored her. “Our family currently requires a strategic public alliance.” Ethan’s unease deepened. “I don’t understand.” Then Richard delivered the sentence that shattered the room. “You and Vivian will marry.” Silence crashed over the table. Vivian stood instantly. “No.” Ethan nearly rose too. “What?” Richard’s voice turned colder and authoritative. “The decision has already been made.” Vivian stared at her father in disbelief. “You cannot seriously expect me to marry him.” Ethan’s pride snapped. “Trust me,” he said sharply, “I’m not thrilled either.” Vivian turned toward him with open disbelief. “You?” Her laugh was cold and incredulous. “You have absolutely nothing.” Ethan slowly stood from his chair. “And somehow your family still needs me.” The atmosphere became suffocating. Richard watched both of them carefully before speaking again. “It will be a one year contractual marriage,” he said. “Publicly convincing. Beneficial to both sides.” “My side gains nothing,” Ethan replied. Richard looked directly into his eyes. “Your mother’s medical debts disappear immediately.” Ethan froze. Vivian noticed the reaction instantly. And understood. That brief silence told her everything. Richard continued calmly. “Your scholarship remains protected. Your family receives financial security and permanent assistance.” Ethan clenched his jaw. So this was never a request. It was leverage. Vivian crossed her arms with visible disgust. “You’re buying him.” Ethan looked at her sharply. Something about the way she said it hurt more than it should have. Richard rose from his chair. “The wedding arrangements begin next week.” Then he left the room. Leaving the two of them alone in suffocating silence. Vivian stared at Ethan with open hostility. He stared back just as coldly. Finally, she spoke. “You’ll regret accepting this.” “I didn’t accept anything.” “But you will.” Ethan laughed quietly, though there was no humor in it. “You think I want this?” “I think poor men like you always want money.” That struck harder than he expected. Because part of him hated how desperate his situation truly was. Vivian stepped closer. For the first time, Ethan noticed the exhaustion hidden beneath her perfection. “How much are they paying you to ruin my life?” she asked quietly. His expression darkened. “You think this only ruins yours?” Her eyes flickered. Only for a second. Then the ice returned. “If I marry you,” she whispered, “your life will become hell.” Silence settled heavily between them. Ethan studied her for several long seconds. The anger hiding something deeper. The loneliness buried beneath elegance. The girl who looked untouchable while seeming just as trapped as he was. Then, despite everything, he smiled faintly. “Then I’ll survive hell.” For the first time, Vivian’s composure cracked. Not softened. Not warmed. Just shaken Barely,, because she was like a boss who stepped on the poor and despise them most