Mafia Daddy: A Cinderella Adult Fairy Tale

by Henry, Jane

  Fucking sick bastard. I was his son .

  As if I could do anything but return ?

  I wordlessly took her small purse and held the bike so she could climb on first. She chattered incessantly about the climates of the south that were hot all the time and not intermittently like the places that had mountains or whatever the fuck, and I nodded and pretended to give a shit. Because the truth was, it didn’t matter what she was talking about. I could listen to her talk all fucking day .

  "But the little plant? It died , Dante. Just died. I'd tried to nurture it back to health with my own hand but I simply couldn’t and it was an utter travesty.” She sighed. “I buried it when it died, I was so sad about it, in a little plot in a garden outside the restaurant where my stepmother never went. If she’d found my plant she'd probably have punished me for doing something that took me away from my work .”

  The bitch .

  "Yeah, baby?" I said, trying to placate her as I scoped out our surroundings to make sure no one else was lurking in the shadows. If anyone saw her, there’d be fucking hell to pay .

  Once the coast was clear, I hitched a leg up and joined her on the bike, my gut soaring when her hands wrapped around me from behind. She felt so perfect there, on the back of my bike, holding onto me with complete and utter trust .

  "Well, you know, miracles do happen, though ."

  Like fuck they did .

  "And that little plant that I buried in a plot because it died? It came back to life. It grew in the spring. I had the perfect little spot with the sun and rain and I don't even know what else, but it grew. And it lasted for a very long time before a rabbit ate it ."

  I stifled a snicker as I kicked up the engine and pulled onto the road, the faintest glow of the sun rising in the distance .

  "A rabbit ?"

  "Yes," she said. "In my mind I imagined it was a mother rabbit fending for her babies and bringing them sustenance, and then I was okay with the second death of my plant. It was better it died with dignity and honor rather than because of malice or spite ."

  Were we still talking about plants ?

  Suddenly her little story meant a bit more to me and I paid closer attention .

  "I'd agree with that, Gabriella. Yeah ."

  She was quiet then, and I sort of missed her talking. But I knew, already, even though I'd only known her for such a short time, that she was thinking .

  "You’re this big, tough guy," she said, breaking the silence. "And I know that if something bad happened you'd, you know, use your fists to defend me .”

  I smirked .

  Fucking adorable .

  "Yeah, honey, if I had to. Sure I would ."

  "Have you ever been in a fight?" she asked

  God, if she only knew. Did the sun rise in the east and set in the west? I was the son of the Mafia Lord of Vegas. Fuck yeah I'd been in fights. I’d defended the honor of the family with my own two fists, with cold metal, with certain death. I'd started them on purpose, too, because I needed an excuse to pound the shit out of someone .

  "Yeah, unfortunately, I have," I said .

  "Unfortunately?" she asked. "Why do you say that? Were they terrible ?"

  I frowned. "I don’t like violence," I admitted, which was an ironic fact I had never actually said out loud until then. I was raised with violence, brutality my milk, weaned on bloodshed and power. But still... I hated it .

  "Yeah," she said, her voice traveling in the wind. It was a thankfully quiet morning, so despite the fact that she had to raise her voice to be heard above the roar of the engine, I could hear her clearly. "I hate that for you, Dante. I'm sorry that you hate violence and have experienced it. I wish you never had to fight." She paused. "Though if I have to be honest, it's sorta cool pretending that you were fighting for me. Like one of those knights, you know, defending his lady’s honor. Wow. That is like a majorly hot fantasy." She giggled. "Maybe it's the tattoos ."

  "Maybe," I mused. "And fuck yeah I'd defend you, baby. No matter what it took." The road gave way to more buildings, more cars, and a busy intersection on the outskirts of where I needed to be. We both knew this was it, the moment where we would say goodbye and that likely would be the end. "Where am I taking you?" I grumbled, more harshly than I'd planned .

  "Do you know where Five Corners is?" she replied, burying her face into my shoulder and tightening her grip around me .

  I nodded. Yeah, I knew where it was. In the most anonymous, busiest part of town, where she’d melt into the crowd and I'd never find her again .

  I pulled to a stop next to the curb, in front of a bench, surrounded by people, hoping no one would see us, needing to bid her goodbye before they did .

  “I wish I could give you my number,” she whispered. “But maybe that’s not a good idea .”

  My throat tightened as I held the bike steady while she got off, and then climbed off myself. I kissed her forehead fiercely and whispered in her ear. "I do know. And I can't tell you how much I wish I didn't ."

  She closed her eyes when my lips met her forehead, and it broke my heart to see a tear seep from beneath her closed lids. I'd give her anything, fucking anything to make her smile. She opened her eyes and smiled bravely at me, and I knew then I'd done something right in my life that someone so good, so pure, and so innocent would smile at me like that .

  "Something tells me this isn't the end," she said, as tears streamed down her face unchecked and she shook her head from side to side. “Last night was so special, Dante… and I'll never forget it as long as I live." Her voice broke and she leaned in, placing her hand on my shoulder and whispering in my ear. "You think you're not a good man. But you're the very best there is. I don't know much, Dante, but I know this. I just do. It's in my gut. And I have good feelings about things like that ."

  I'd take it. I closed my eyes and buried my face in her soft, fragrant hair and swallowed the emotions that choked me, holding onto the one good thing that had ever let me close .

  I held her tightly, and she gasped in surprise as I snaked my hand to the base of her neck, gripped her firmly, and brought her mouth to mine. I kissed her goodbye then, in a way that she would never forget. She came up on her toes and held onto my shoulders and kissed me back... in a way that I would never forget .

  On impulse, I changed my mind .

  "Tomorrow," I said. "Meet me here tomorrow at midnight. Can you do that ?"

  "Midnight," she repeated .

  "Midnight, baby. Right here, by the water fountain with the pink lights on it ."

  "I'll be here," she breathed, her eyes alight, kissing the tips of her fingers and waving them at me. And then she was gone. She'd melted into the crowd as if she were one of them, but she wasn't. Not Gabriella .

  I watched her go and allowed myself a moment to compose myself .

  I had everything I wanted. The biggest mansion. The most expensive cars. A bank account that rivaled the leaders of small countries. A private jet that would take me anywhere I wanted. And it all paled in comparison to the one thing I really wanted .

  Gabriella.

  I'd wait for her, until tomorrow, at the stroke of midnight .

  I watched her until she disappeared from sight, and then I got back on my bike, started the engine and went to where I knew he was waiting for me .

  " N ot gonna tell me her name?" my father said, and I shook my head. When I was younger, I knew this was the point where I'd bear the wrath of his fury for my disobedience. I'd been bigger and stronger than him for a while now. Didn't mean my stomach didn't still clench in conditioned fear when his voice got that tone, though .

  He nodded. "Alright, then. You're my son. You're entitled to a little privacy once in a
while ."

  Fucking bullshit. I knew he was lying, but I wouldn't argue .

  "You do know what this means, though, don't you? You found a girl you want to hide. Look at the position you've put me in, son ."

  My hands clenched in fists as I looked beyond him, at the gleaming framed print on the wall, not wanting to look at him, not able to meet his eyes .

  "Very well," he said. "Your mother has an idea ."

  My mother? I looked back at him. "Yeah ?"

  He nodded. "You need to marry a wealthy girl, and if we find those motivated by wealth then we find those less likely to have..." he waved a hand in the air. "Moral hang-ups about who you are and what you do. So at the end of the week, we’ll have a masquerade ball. We’ll invite the daughters of our contacts, the rich and powerful with daughters who would benefit from joining our family. You will meet them, and you will choose a wife." He paused. "It will be an honor for them to marry into the family ."

  "You want to have a party," I bit out. "And line them up so I can pick one out like my favorite flavor of ice cream." The insanity of his plan infuriated me. What the actual fuck was he thinking ?

  "You make it sound so cheap ."

  "It is cheap !"

  "Enough!" he roared. I stiffened and frowned but said no more .

  "This is business. People who say they marry for anything other than money or stature lie, Dante. They lie. I've been around long enough to know this ."

  What?

  I looked at him in genuine confusion. "You married Mom for money or stature ?"

  His eyes met mine across the room, cold and brutal. "Of course I did," he spat out. "My father was Donatello Villanova, the most powerful man in all of Venice, and you think I could let my family bloodline be weakened? I married your mother because she was the heiress to Crowater Enterprises, and our ties strengthened both of our families." He looked away then and shrugged a shoulder. "She's a good woman, and we've grown to care for each other. This, you know ."

  I did. Didn't mean it didn't make my stomach twist with nausea .

  I thought about Gabriella and what my dad would do to her if she was ever in his presence, and I knew I had to do what he wanted me to. Letting him marry me off for the good of the family was the only choice I could make .

  "Fine. Do it," I muttered. "Now." I got to my feet and his eyes flared with anger at the command I'd given him but I didn't give a fuck .

  I shoved open the door to his office and went to leave. "And the next time I want some time alone, I'd appreciate you leaving your fucking henchmen at home ."

  "Dante!" His chair knocked back as he got to his feet, his old rage surfacing .

  I turned and looked at him, pointing a finger his way. "Do you want me to be a leader in this family ?"

  "Of course," he spat. "But you'll remember your place ."

  As if I could forget. I turned on my heel and left, ignoring his demand for me to come back. "You want me to lead?” I called over my shoulder. “Then let me fucking lead ."

  Chapter Six

  I t was easy to be nobody in Vegas. There were too many other people doing their own thing, drawing attention to themselves, noisy people who thankfully gave me the anonymity I craved right about now. The sun had begun to rise, but it didn't matter. Not here… in the city that never slept .

  I easily melded into the crowd wiping away at the tears that simply would not stop .

  Enough, Gabriella, I chided myself. You have so many things to be grateful for. You did a careless, reckless thing, and you can't focus on that now .

  If she finds out, she'll hurt him .

  The last thought came to me unbidden and I focused on that as a little thread of fear wove itself through my thoughts. I knew it was true. Agatha was overtly nice to me in front of others, but she thrived on my loneliness. If she thought for a minute that I'd found someone who made me happy ...

  Was she that evil? Was she really that self-centered ?

  For years, I’d told myself that my stepmother treated me the way she did because she grieved the loss of my father. He'd loved her, and I guess she'd loved him back. She’d mourned his loss like any good widow would have, at least at first. She’d worn black, and dabbed at her eyes when people offered their sympathies, but the very week after we’d buried him, she’d had a new boyfriend .

  She'd be waking up now. I glanced at the time on a large clock that hung in the marketplace, knowing my phone was still dead and needed a charge .

  I opened the back door to La Bistro and clicked it shut behind me, then glanced around. Was she lurking somewhere, ready to ask me about my night? I wouldn't tell her. No, I would not, not for anything. But fortunately, she was nowhere to be seen. She never really was a morning person .

  I filled and prepared the massive stainless-steel coffee pots and hit the red switches to brew the various blends, then made sure the carafes were filled with cold coffee cream, and all the sweeteners were in place. Shortly, the rest of the wait staff and cooks would arrive, and Manuel would lug the big pots out for me. For now, I had work to do .

  As I did inventory on the breakfast sausage and eggs, I tied a bandana around my hair to keep it out of the food. I jotted down what we had, and what we needed, and as I bent over to peer at everything on the lower shelf, I felt the residual sting along my skin .

  And I remembered how he stood, his belt in hand, commanding me to hold onto the headboard and not move. My heart raced .

  Oh, God .

  As I filled the pitchers with juice and put out the trays of little juice cups, I recalled the way he'd grabbed my hair and pulled my head back, unapologetic and commanding, taking without asking .

  Dante .

  God, Dante .

  He was a man who would not cower in the face of fear .

  He was fierce and strong, and protective .

  As I snapped clean, white cloths onto the tables by the buffet line, and smoothed them down, I remembered what it felt like to lie naked under the blanket, having climaxed at his touch, the memory of his mouth on me still vivid and delicious. I jumped as I realized someone had arrived and was talking to me and I hadn't even noticed .

  It was just Manuel, one of our staff .

  "Morning, Gabriella," he said. "Your stepmother was looking for you. Have you seen her yet ?"

  "Um, no. When was she looking for me ?"

  "Last night. She tried calling your cell phone and couldn't get in touch. She was angry that she hadn't heard from her daughters. Seemed they weren't able to be reached either." He gave me a sad smile. "Eh, she'll be here soon enough, but don't worry. You know how we get busy on Wednesdays. She won't have time to nag." Manuel was an older, middle-aged man with dark hair and skin. He knew how to handle Agatha, and it was mostly by just smiling and nodding and ignoring her rants .

  Maybe I needed to adopt his methods .

  "Thanks. I went to a concert with Violet and Elenora, but they needed my seat and ended up ousting me, so I… came home myself." No need to tell him everything ,

  He paused, leaning the large pots against a table, "They left you?" he asked, his dark brown eyes angry beneath furrowed brows .

  I nodded. "Yeah. But it worked out fine. Don't worry ."

  He shook his head from side to side. "They treat you so badly, Gabriella," he huffed, but I put up a hand to stop him .

  If they hadn't left me like that, I never would have had the night I had. I closed my eyes briefly, suddenly overcome with emotion. "Believe me when I tell you it was fine." My voice shook a little. "That I'm fine. Okay ?"

  He gave me a long look, before returning to his work. "Alright, if you say so," he said. "But do me
a favor, will you? No more concerts with them. You're tired at night because you work early morning hours. Got it ?"

  I smiled at him. "Okay." He was a good guy .

  The atmosphere in the restaurant changed then, the second her heels clicked on the floor in the kitchen. "Morning!" my stepmother trilled, her voice holding a thread of control, the fake friendliness making me shiver. She was ruthless and mean, and only pretended to be kind to her staff for show .

  "Morning, Agatha," I said brightly. "I heard you were looking for me last night ?"

  Better to confront her in a public place .

  "Yes," she said, the smile fading from her face. She looked as if she were about to step on a runway, as usual. Her jet-black hair was twisted into a severe knot at the base of her head, her dark red lipstick and black mascara making her complexion appear pale white. She wore black stilettos and a skin-tight, olive-green sheath dress, emphasizing her fit figure. Her lips thinned as she eyed me .

  "You didn't come to dinner, and I was worried about you, Gabriella," she said, her eyes flitting over to where Manuel was taking chairs down and setting them up .

  "Well, you know the girls and I went to a concert," I said. "Turned out they needed my seat in the car after all, so I opted to—" I paused, almost saying "come home," but it would've been a lie and I didn’t like lying. "Opted to give up my seat. I had a bit of a mishap with my phone dying, but I made it home, as you can see." I forced a smile. "Did the girls enjoy themselves ?"

  Her eyes narrowed on me. She knew I was hiding something, but I wouldn’t let her pry. I turned my back to her and continued preparing breakfast. Customers would arrive in an hour, and our early morning breakfast buffet was popular for businessmen and women traveling, or the late-night people who'd pulled all-nighters at the casinos .