One Night Stand Born Is The MOONGODESS And A Mafia Queen

Lisa trembled as she muttered, "I would name her Selene," looking down at the baby in her arms. Her body was weak and the pain of childbirth still remained, but for a little moment, she felt peace as she saw her daughter. Her eyes, shone silver-brown beneath the lids, and her golden brown hair curled softly against the baby's fragile head. She was perfect.

Still connected by the umbilical cord, Lisa knew she didn’t have much time. She couldn’t afford to linger, In the middle of the woods, alone and vulnerable. Her hands shook as she pulled a small knife from her backpack, gritting her teeth as she cut the cord. Pain shot through her already exhausted body, but she moved quickly, wrapping the newborn in a cloth she had hastily grabbed before fleeing.

She froze when she heard something rustle in the undergrowth. Fearing that Selene Would cry, she hurried behind a big oak tree while covering her small mouth with her palm. She gasped shallowly as she emerged from behind the tree, her heart pounding loudly in her ears. Her pursuers went by, the sound of their heavy footfall resonating through the trees. Lisa trembled from dread and tiredness and held her breath.

When she was certain they had gone, Lisa staggered to her feet, clutching her baby tightly to her chest. She needed to reach her grandfather’s shed, hidden deep in the woods, where her father used to spend time with his old pickup truck. As she moved, every step was agony. Blood trailed behind her, her body still bleeding from the birth, but she pushed forward, praying that the truck would still work.

The shrubs surrounding the shed came into view, and Lisa nearly collapsed with relief. Pushing through the dense grass, she made out the old, rusty '95 pickup. Her eyes filled with tears as images of her father raced through her head. She hurried to the front tire, where her father always said the key was hidden. Trembling with tiredness, her fingers searched through the soil, and when her hand closed around the cool metal of the key, she nearly let out a cry of joy.

She sat down next to the truck as her knees gave way beneath her. With little hands clenching Lisa's shirt, Selene Stirred.

“It’s you and me now, Lene,” Lisa whispered, her voice cracking. The baby’s silver-brown eyes fluttered open, staring deeply into Lisa’s soul. For a moment, Lisa couldn't look away from her daughter's oddly intense gaze.

Lisa wiped a tear from her cheek and muttered, "I know, baby." "You'll be safe with me. I swear.”

With a groan of effort, Lisa hauled herself into the truck, cradling Selene in one arm as she jammed the key into the ignition. She whispered, "Come on, come on," as she turned the key. The engine coughed and stuttered, then roared to life. She turned around and headed toward the Oakland Express, feeling a wave of relief flood over her.

The night was long, the road ahead seeming endless. Lisa drove through the darkness, her body aching with every movement. She pulled over only briefly to breastfeed Selene, her eyes darting around the deserted roads, always alert for the people chasing her. They couldn’t find them. They wouldn’t.

As dawn broke, Lisa saw a road sign that read Brooksville. Once she saw a little self-service station, she turned off the express and followed the twisting route. She drove into the parking lot, exhausted beyond belief, and turned off the engine. The world went dark as her head lowered and rested against the steering wheel.

Back in Oakland, Jeremy and the others returned, their search for Lisa fruitless. They'd been searching the woods all night, but neither her nor the baby had turned up. As they proceeded up the mayor's mansion's driveway, Jeremy muttered curses to himself.

Maxwell John Donovan, the mayor of Oakland and Lisa’s uncle, sat outside on the porch, waiting for news. His daughter Abigail stood beside him, her face twisted into a scowl. "Did you find her?" Donovan asked, his voice low and dangerous.

Jeremy shook his head. “No sign of them. She’s gone.”

Donovan’s face darkened with fury, but he held his tongue. He couldn’t afford to look too desperate. People were already talking, wondering why the mayor had such a vested interest in chasing down his own niece. He dismissed Jeremy and his men with a wave of his hand and stormed inside.

As Donovan poured himself a drink, Abigail sidled up to him, wrapping her arms around his waist. "Daddy," she purred, her voice sickly sweet. "Did they catch that b***h?"

Donovan turned, pulling her into his arms. "No, pumpkin. But I will find her," he promised, pressing a kiss to her lips before leading her to the bedroom. He was glad his wife was away; there was no need for her to know about this.

At the Crusty B, a small restaurant and Airbnb on the outskirts of Brooksville, Billy Jeanne was busy cleaning the counters when she noticed the pickup truck sitting in the parking lot. It had been there for a while, unmoving. Her brow furrowed as she glanced at the clock. Something wasn’t right.

Billy was a towering woman, 6’10” of solid muscle and strength, with jet-black hair that hung down her back and piercing blue eyes. She looked like a thug, but anyone who knew her understood she was gentle at heart. Grumbling to herself about idiots parking and not ordering, she marched outside to confront the driver.

Billy's steps wavered as she got closer to the truck. The sight of the woman bent over the steering wheel, her clothes smeared with blood, had her breath catch in her throat. A baby with wide, silver-brown eyes was staring at her from the passenger seat, and her heart raced.

“Jesus H. Christ,” Billy whispered. Swiftly opening the passenger door, she carefully removed the infant from the car. With those frightening eyes, the child just stared at her without crying.

Billy ran inside and, hands trembling, she dialed 911. “There’s a woman, she’s hurt—badly,” she said into the phone, her voice barely steady. “And there’s a baby. Please hurry!”

Billy held the child in her arms while they waited for the ambulance. She mumbled, gently rocking the infant, "It's gonna be okay, little one." "Now you're safe."

At the Grid Hospital, the emergency room staff was in shock. The woman the ambulance had brought in was covered in blood, in severe condition, but for some reason, she was still alive. More than that—she was stable. Dr. Beneth, who had been working at the hospital for years, couldn’t believe her eyes.

“She delivered this baby on her own,” Dr. Beneth muttered to the nurse beside her. “Cut the cord herself. Traveled over a hundred kilometers, bleeding the whole way—and yet, here she is, alive. And the baby—” She paused, glancing at the child wrapped in a clean blanket, staring up at her with those eerie silver-brown eyes. “The baby is...perfectly fine.”

The nurses whispered in amazement as they cleaned up the woman and her child. "What kind of mother delivers alone, cuts the umbilical cord herself, and drives that far?" one nurse asked.

"Not just any mother," another nurse replied. "A mother running for her life."

Three years have passed since I made Brooksville my home, a small town nestled between vast forests and hills. It became a safe haven for me and my daughter, Lene, who has grown into a beautiful, enigmatic child. Although she is adored by many in the community, there is something off about her that makes me think of the mystery surrounding her father. Every time I look into her big innocent eyes it reminds me of him, the man who came into my life like a hurricane and left me with more questions than answers. I don’t even know his name.

Remembering it makes me laugh, yet there's a hint of unease in the back of my mind . When I first met him, it was a cold morning. I had just finished my usual morning dip at the stream that runs through our family land when I stumbled upon a stranger. Not just any stranger—no, this man was extraordinary, stunning in a way that made my breath catch and my heart race. The world seemed to stop when I saw him, as if time itself bent ar