The Plus-Size Maid Treated the Ignored Old Man Like Royalty — Unaware He Was the Mafia Boss’s Father — Part 2
For several seconds, nobody inside the Moretti dining hall moved.
The room was frozen.
Not because of the spilled soup.
Not because Meline was still kneeling on the floor.
But because everyone had heard the same thing.
“Son…”
Giovanni Moretti had called Alessandro Moretti his son.
And then he had asked him to protect the only person who had treated him like family.
The employees looked at each other.
The quiet old man they had ignored for weeks…
was not just a guest.
He was the father of the man who controlled everything.
Meline remained on the floor.
Her hands were still pressed against the polished marble.
She didn’t understand.
She looked at Giovanni.
Then at Alessandro.
Then back at Giovanni.
The old man who had sat alone in the garden.
The old man who needed help reading his newspaper.
The old man who joked with her about sugar.
That man was Giovanni Moretti.
The father of Alessandro Moretti.
The man whose name everyone in Chicago knew.
Meline closed her eyes for a moment.
“Oh.”
It was the only word she could say.
Giovanni almost smiled.
“That’s usually the reaction people have.”
Even in that tense moment, Meline noticed something.
He wasn’t angry.
He was hurt.
And somehow that hurt her more.
Alessandro walked across the dining hall.
Every employee stepped aside immediately.
Nobody looked at him.
Nobody dared.
But Alessandro wasn’t looking at them.
His eyes were on Meline.
The woman who had been humiliated.
The woman who had defended his father when she believed he was nobody.
He stopped in front of her.
Then he extended his hand.
Meline stared at it.
“Can you stand?”
She nodded slowly.
“I think so.”
She placed her hand in his.
His grip was strong.
But careful.
He helped her stand.
Immediately, Meline stepped back.
“I’m fine, sir.”
Alessandro looked down.
A red mark was forming around her wrist.
His expression barely changed.
But somehow that made everyone more nervous.
Because Alessandro Moretti was not a man who needed to shout.
His silence was enough.
“Who touched her?”
Nobody answered.
Then Giovanni spoke.
“Beatrice.”
The head housekeeper went pale.
Alessandro slowly turned.
“Beatrice.”
The woman who had controlled the household for years suddenly looked much smaller.
“Mr. Moretti, I can explain.”
“Don’t.”
One word.
Quiet.
Final.
The entire room went silent.
Alessandro looked at her.
Not with anger.
With disappointment.
And somehow that was worse.
“You believed she was beneath you.”
Beatrice swallowed.
“I misunderstood the situation.”
Alessandro tilted his head slightly.
“What situation?”
She had no answer.
He continued.
“What did you think my father was?”
The question hit harder than a shout.
Beatrice looked down.
“A former employee?”
A long silence followed.
Giovanni gave a tired smile.
“And that made cruelty acceptable?”
Nobody spoke.
Meline looked between them.
She expected anger.
Punishment.
Revenge.
But something surprised her.
Alessandro wasn’t interested in making a scene.
He was interested in the reason.
That was when she stepped forward.
“Please don’t punish everyone because of me.”
Everyone turned toward her.
Even Alessandro.
Meline took a breath.
“What happened was wrong.”
She looked at Beatrice.
“But I don’t want someone’s life destroyed because I fell on the floor.”
Beatrice looked shocked.
She had just humiliated this woman.
And Meline was asking for mercy.
Giovanni’s expression softened.
Alessandro watched carefully.
He had spent years surrounded by people who begged for forgiveness only when consequences arrived.
Meline was different.
She wanted fairness.
Not revenge.
“This isn’t only about you,” Alessandro said.
Meline nodded.
“I know.”
She glanced toward Giovanni.
“It’s about him.”
The room became quiet again.
“He’s the one everyone was disrespecting.”
Giovanni smiled.
A small, proud smile.
“There she is.”
Meline frowned.
“Who?”
“The woman who has been forcing me to drink less sugar for three weeks.”
A few employees almost laughed.
Almost.
Because nobody expected humor in that room.
Meline crossed her arms.
“Your doctor said you needed to.”
“He did.”
“Then I was right.”
Giovanni looked at Alessandro.
“See what I deal with?”
For the first time that day…
Alessandro almost smiled.
Then Meline finally understood.
“My name is Giovanni Moretti.”
He introduced himself properly.
She already knew.
Everyone knew.
Her eyes moved toward Alessandro.
“And he is…”
Giovanni smiled.
“My son.”
Meline covered her face briefly.
She didn’t faint.
Although she considered it.
“I have been arguing with a billionaire’s father about sugar.”
Giovanni laughed.
“That is the best part.”
Alessandro looked at her.
“You treated him exactly the same after finding out.”
Meline looked confused.
“Should I not have?”
That answer stayed with Alessandro.
Because everyone else changed when they learned his family name.
Their voices softened.
Their behavior changed.
Their respect appeared instantly.
But Meline?
She still complained about sugar.
She still told Giovanni when he was being stubborn.
She still saw an old man.
Not a fortune.
Not a connection.
A person.
The next morning, Meline found Giovanni exactly where she first met him.
The kitchen garden.
A newspaper in his hands.
A simple brown jacket.
She stopped beside him.
“You own expensive suits, don’t you?”
Giovanni lowered the newspaper.
“Several.”
“Then why do you dress like someone’s retired uncle who accidentally walked into a mansion?”
The old man laughed.
A real laugh.
From the terrace above, Alessandro heard it.
He stopped walking.
Because he had not heard that sound from his father in years.
Giovanni looked at Meline.
“You know why I dress this way?”
She sat beside him.
“No.”
“Because expensive clothes change people.”
Meline listened.
“When I arrive wearing a suit, everyone knows who I am.”
“But when I arrive like this…”
He looked toward the mansion.
“I see who people really are.”
Meline became quiet.
“How many people disappointed you?”
Giovanni smiled sadly.
“More than I expected.”
He told her stories.
Employees who ignored him.
People who treated him like he didn’t belong.
A waiter who asked his assistant what he wanted while he sat right there.
A receptionist who told him to wait outside because she assumed he was lost.
Meline listened.
Not because she was shocked.
Because she understood.
“My grandfather was like that.”
Giovanni looked at her.
“He changed too?”
“Yes.”
She looked down.
“People started talking around him instead of to him.”
Her voice became softer.
“They acted like getting older meant disappearing.”
Giovanni was silent.
Then he asked:
“What did you do?”
Meline smiled faintly.
“I made sure he knew he was still there.”
That answer reached Alessandro.
He had been standing nearby.
Listening.
For years, he had tried to protect his father with power.
Money.
Security.
Influence.
But Meline had protected him with something much simpler.
Attention.
Kindness.
Respect.
Things money could not buy.
Later that afternoon, Alessandro found Meline in the library.
“You know there are people employed to organize books.”
She looked back.
“I am one of those people.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“I know.”
She smiled.
Alessandro studied her.
Most people became nervous around him.
Meline did too.
But differently.
She respected him.
She did not worship him.
There was a difference.
“My father likes you.”
Meline smiled.
“He likes anyone who argues with him about dessert.”
“He doesn’t.”
“He does.”
Alessandro almost smiled.
Then his expression became serious.
“Why did you treat him differently?”
Meline stopped.
“What?”
“Everyone else changed when they knew who he was.”
A pause.
“You didn’t.”
She thought for a moment.
Then answered:
“Because I already knew who he was.”
Alessandro looked at her.
“He was an old man sitting alone.”
“He needed someone to talk to.”
“That was enough.”
For years, Alessandro had searched for loyalty.
He found it in the one person who had nothing to gain.
But not everyone inside the Moretti estate felt the same.
Some people believed Meline had become too important.
Some believed she was manipulating Giovanni.
Some believed she wanted Alessandro’s attention.
Rumors began spreading.
And the woman who had once been praised for kindness…
was now being questioned because powerful people had noticed her.
Meline heard the whispers.
But she refused to defend herself.
Because she knew the truth.
And she knew something else.
Real kindness did not need an audience.
One evening, Alessandro found her alone in the kitchen.
“You know people are talking.”
Meline continued cutting fruit.
“Yes.”
“And you’re not going to respond?”
She looked at him.
“Why?”
“They are questioning your character.”
Meline placed the knife down.
“People who already decided I’m guilty aren’t looking for answers.”
Silence.
Then she added:
“I’m not going to beg people to believe I’m a good person.”
Alessandro stared at her.
Because he had spent his entire life surrounded by people desperate to prove themselves.
Meline was different.
She already knew who she was.
That night, Giovanni made one request.
He asked Alessandro to bring everyone together.
“The pretending has gone on long enough.”
The next morning…
every employee stood inside the main hall.
And for the first time, Giovanni Moretti would reveal the truth.
The old man they ignored…
was about to remind everyone exactly who he was.
