My Husband Saved His Illegitimate Son Instead of Our Daughter

My world shattered the moment Maeve collapsed.

One moment, my daughter was chasing white butterflies through the moonlit courtyard of our family's estate, her bright laughter carrying across the marble gardens as our bodyguards struggled to keep up with her. The next, her tiny body gave out beneath her, crumpling onto the stone path as though every ounce of life had been drained from her.

"Maeve!"

My scream echoed through the compound as I ran toward her, but Evander reached her first.

Only seconds earlier, he had been meeting with the caporegimes in the mansion's private courtyard, discussing the family's next shipment. The moment he heard my voice, he abandoned everything and rushed to our daughter.

He dropped to one knee and gathered her into his arms.

"Maeve, piccola," he murmured, his voice rough enough to make my chest tighten. It was nothing like the cold, ruthless Mafia Don whose name kept rival families awake at night. "Open your eyes."

Her small fingers curled weakly around the lapel of his suit.

"Papa..."

"I'm here, sweetheart."

His voice never wavered, but I knew him too well. The slight tremble in his hands betrayed the terror he refused to show anyone else.

He lifted his eyes to mine.

"Call Dr. Moretti. Now."

The command snapped me out of my panic.

I grabbed my phone with shaking hands and called the physician assigned exclusively to the Moretti crime family.

"Doctor," I gasped the instant he answered. "Maeve collapsed. Please... save my daughter."

His reply came without hesitation.

"Bring her to the underground clinic immediately. Don't waste another minute."

Only moments ago she had been laughing.

How could this be happening?

"She was fine," I whispered, struggling to keep my voice steady. "She was just playing."

Evander said nothing.

He simply tightened his hold on Maeve before striding toward the armored SUV waiting outside. Our security detail moved instantly, surrounding us as the convoy sped through the city with sirens blaring.

The drive felt endless.

By the time we arrived at the family's underground medical facility, Dr. Moretti and his surgical team were already waiting.

Evander laid Maeve gently on the operating table while the doctor began examining her.

The longer he worked, the grimmer his expression became.

"What is wrong with my daughter?" Evander demanded.

Dr. Moretti slowly lowered his stethoscope.

"Her condition has progressed much faster than we expected."

"Then save her."

"I can," the doctor answered quietly. "But only with an immediate blood transfusion."

He looked directly at Evander.

"She has an exceptionally rare blood type. As far as our records show, there is only one compatible donor."

His gaze never left my husband's face.

"You."

Hope flooded through me.

Then the operating room doors burst open.

A woman hurried inside.

Celestine.

Evander's first love.

The woman everyone had once believed would become the queen of the Moretti family before she vanished without a trace.

She wasn't alone.

A pale little boy clung tightly to her hand, his face almost devoid of color as though he could collapse at any moment.

Dr. Moretti's expression froze.

"Celestine... what are you doing here?"

Her voice shook as she answered.

"My son needs your help."

The doctor examined the child before letting out a slow, weary breath.

"He has the same condition."

Silence settled over the operating room.

When Dr. Moretti looked up again, his eyes rested on Evander.

"There's something else you need to know."

Evander frowned.

"What is it?"

The doctor inhaled slowly.

"The boy is also a compatible match because he shares your blood."

The floor seemed to vanish beneath my feet.

Evander stared at the child, every muscle in his body going rigid.

"What did you say?"

Tears streamed down Celestine's face.

"Alaric... is your son."

No one spoke.

Even the constant beeping of the monitors seemed to fade into the background.

Dr. Moretti finally broke the suffocating silence.

"The amount of blood required for either child is enough to put the donor's own life at risk. Even Evander cannot survive giving enough to save them both."

His eyes moved from Maeve...

...to Alaric.

"You have two children."

He paused.

"But only one can be saved."

I turned to my husband.

To the man I had loved.

To the head of our family.

To my daughter's father.

"Please," I whispered, barely able to force the words past the knot in my throat. "Choose Maeve."

His eyes rested on our daughter before slowly shifting to the little boy standing beside Celestine.

For the first time since I had met the man feared as the king of the underworld...

...Evander hesitated.