Cruel Daddy (Boston Mafia Doms)

by Bianca Cole

  We’ve both lost control as I fuck her without mercy. Every time we’ve fucked up to now, I’ve played with her first. Granted, the entire charity event I was “playing” with her, but there’s something more desperate and passionate about this moment.

  “Oh, daddy, I’m going to come,” she whines, making my balls clench.

  I feel myself explode deep inside of her as I continue to fuck her against the wall. “That’s it, angel. Come on daddy’s cock,” I growl against her neck as her juices drip down my cock. I continue thrusting my hips into her hard and fast in an attempt to drain every drop of my seed. That weird primal need to breed her still rules me, and it’s a sensation I can’t comprehend.

  Aida is an enigma to me. No woman has ever made me lose control like this, and it worries me more than anything. In all my life, I’ve never lost control. This woman has managed to unravel me.

  19

  Aida

  A week has passed since we returned to Boston and attended the charity event. The event where Milo made me hate him and want him more than ever. It makes no sense, but my body craves his unapologetic dominance while my mind rejects it.

  I’ve rarely seen him at all since that night as he has been busy with work. Anytime I do see him, he’s cold and distant. He hasn’t touched me since that night.

  The moment we walked back into the mansion after getting off the plane, his man was waiting for him with a solemn look on his face. He mentioned that they were having troubles with the McCarthy clan, but it meant nothing to me. I have no idea about how things are run in Boston or who Milo’s enemies are.

  It frustrates me that part of me has been disappointed by the lack of time he’s spent with me, especially since I should loathe him after the way he treats me.

  For the first time since we returned, we had dinner together last night when the same man came in and cut it short. He wasn’t very clear about the problem but said an emergency needed Milo’s attention. I expected I’d be glad not to have to see Milo too often, but instead, I feel lonely.

  He returned in the early hours of the morning and snuck into bed before leaving at six o’clock this morning. I believe he thought I was asleep on both occasions.

  There’s been an awkward tension between us ever since he lost control and fucked me against the shower after the charity event.

  The time spent on the island felt like I was with a different man entirely. Maybe Milo has split personalities, as it sure felt like it at times. It’s blurred the lines between us, and I’ve got no idea how to act around him.

  I check my hair in the mirror before heading out of our room. Olivia, Milo’s housekeeper, is walking toward me as I step outside. “Mrs. Mazzeo, there’s a parcel for you downstairs.”

  “Olivia, I’ve told you before to call me Aida. Do you know who the parcel is from?” I ask, wondering who on earth could have sent a parcel addressed to me here

  She smiles kindly. “Of course, sorry, Aida, it’s a habit.” She shakes her head. “No, there’s a card with it, but I have not touched it. The delivery guy dropped it off.”

  No one knows my address from my previous life, so I can only assume it’s a late wedding gift from one of Milo’s friends. I enter the dining room and see a large box wrapped in emerald green wrapping paper.

  Olivia follows me. “I’m intrigued about what is inside. Do you mind?”

  I shake my head. “Of course not.”

  Olivia has been kind to me since I arrived. I reach for the ribbon around the parcel and open it, lifting the lid and glancing inside to see a pretty green dress inside. It’s expensive, and there’s a hand-written note on top of it.

  For an angel that deserves to be in heaven.

  My brow furrows as I stare at the dress before pulling it out. My heart drops into my stomach as I hear what sounds like the ticking of a detonator. All my time with my dad taught me a trick or two. Oliva is fawning over the dress as I grab her hand, pulling her toward the nearest obstacle to cover us from the blast. I pull her behind the sofa.

  “Aida, what are —”

  She’s cut short from asking her question as the blast shakes the room. Her eyes are wide as bits of the hardwood dining table splinter. A few of them land on us.

  “Fuck, we need to call Mr. Mazzeo right away,” she says. “If you hadn’t realized there was a bomb in the parcel, we’d both be splattered across this damn room.” Her body is shaking as she remains behind the sofa. “Fucking lucky.”

  I nod. “The moment I heard the ticking coming from the package, I knew.”

  A man comes running into the room, the same man that interrupted dinner with Milo last night. “Mrs. Mazzeo?” He sounds panicked.

  I stand and reveal myself, and so does Olivia.

  “Are you alright?” he asks, rushing over to me.

  I nod. “Yes, luckily, we’re both fine.”

  Olivia is shaking. “Only thanks to Aida, she saved both of our lives.”

  “I’m Piero, and I work with Milo.” He shoots a stern gaze at Olivia. “Who allowed this parcel inside the house?”

  Olivia pales. “I believe Helen took the parcel in, but I brought it into the dining room for Mrs. Mazzeo. There was no way I could have known there was a bomb inside it.”

  Piero shakes his head. “We’ll discuss this more later. For now, please leave us.”

  Olivia swallows hard before squeezing my hand and obeying his command.

  Piero brings his hand up to my face. “You are hurt.”

  I touch my face and find my fingers bloody. “It’s a scratch. Who sent the parcel?”

  He walks toward the blown-up dress, which lays a few meters from the damaged oak table. “I have a good idea from the color of this dress. The Irish.” He looks up at me. “Milo is on his way back as I told him there was an explosion. He would want a doctor to check you over in your room.”

  I stare at him, wondering why I’d need to see a doctor. “A doctor isn’t necessary.”

  Piero clenches his jaw. “Please don’t make this hard on either of us. I will be in trouble if I don’t get a doctor to check you over.”

  I nod, feeling a heaviness settle on my chest. “I understand.” I walk out of the dining room and head toward our room.

  Piero escorts me, making sure I do as he says, and go to my room. Once there, he stands in the doorway. “The doctor will be here in five minutes. Stay put.” He slams the door shut, making me jump.

  I stare at the door in shock. It takes a few minutes until the reality of what happened sinks in. My stomach churns, and the tears start to flow freely. I could have died barely ten minutes ago.

  I remember the lies Milo spoke before we dived into that grotto.

  I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise. I’ll protect you.

  Words that were a ploy to get me into that grotto with him. Milo doesn’t care what happens to me, and he made that clear once we were inside. He is cruel, and despite his capacity for kindness, he chooses to treat me badly.

  The shock of everything that has happened in the past couple of weeks hits me all at once. My father’s betrayal, Milo’s cruel ways, and now I’ve almost been blown to pieces in my husband’s dining room.

  My cell phone rings, and I’m surprised when I see it’s a Sicilian number. I answer it instantly. “Hello.”

  “Aida, thank god. Gia and I have been trying to get hold of you for days. We were so worried.”

  I sigh a breath of relief, thankful to hear Siena’s voice. “I know, Milo has blocked incoming calls from anyone saved in my phone.”

  “What a fucking asshole,” Gia says.

  I smile at that, wiping away the tears staining my cheeks. “Yeah, he is.”

  “Are you okay, though? You sound shook up?” Siena asks.

  I have no idea how to answer that question. I’m anything but okay. “Not really,” I say, feeling my throat close up.

  Siena is the first to speak. “What’s up?”

  I shake my head, wondering if
she has to ask that question. “I’m married to a monster and almost got blown up in his dining room. That’s what is up.”

  Gia grabs the phone from Siena. “That was a stupid question. You almost got blown up? How?”

  I shake my head even though they can’t see me. “I don’t know exactly. One of Milo’s enemies tried to kill me.”

  “Oh my god, are you uninjured?” Siena asks.

  “Yes. I’m fine, just shook up.”

  Gia grabs the phone again. “Can we come and visit you yet? We need to give this husband of yours a piece of our minds.”

  I wish they could come and visit me, but I know Milo wouldn’t allow it. He didn’t even allow my bodyguard to stay on. A man that could have proved helpful a moment ago when I was almost blown to pieces. “I don’t think Milo will allow it.”

  “Fuck him,” Siena says.

  “Yeah, he can’t stop us from seeing you for the rest of our lives,” Gia adds.

  They don’t know what kind of man I’m married to. He can and will stop me from seeing my friends if he wants. “He can do what he wants and makes that clear to me whenever I don’t follow his orders.”

  Gia clicks her tongue. “Sounds like a fucking asshole.”

  I laugh. “You can say that again.” I sigh heavily, longing so badly to be back home. My father is an asshole, but I’d still return to Sicily in a heartbeat if I could. There wouldn’t be a moment’s hesitation. I miss my friends so badly.

  A knock at the door interrupts our conversation. “Sorry guys, I’ve got to go.”

  Siena and Gia try to protest, but I cancel the call without another word. The last thing I need is for Milo to hear that my friends have found a way to contact me. His desire to block everything good out of my life makes me hate him more than I can explain. It infects my blood and makes me so angry I want to murder him.

  “Come in,” I answer the second knock.

  A man who has to be about fifty years old with graying hair enters the room. “Mrs. Mazzeo, I’m Doctor Allan Kingsley, and I’ve been instructed to check you over.” His brow furrows. “I heard you had a close shave with a bomb only twenty minutes ago.”

  I nod in response.

  “Mr. Mazzeo has requested I give you a medical check to ensure you are fine. Although, I am correct in assuming you sustained no wounds?”

  “No wounds, only a few scratches from the debris on my arms.” I point at the cuts on my arm.

  He sets his bag down on the dresser and gets out a stethoscope and blood pressure monitor. “I’ll check your blood pressure first. Can you take your cardigan off?”

  I shrug the cardigan off, and he affixes the monitor to my left arm. The tests seem like overkill considering I wasn’t hurt.

  The doctor does his tests, writing down notes. “You’re all clear, Aida. I’d say you may be in a bit of shock, though, as your blood pressure was elevated.” He packs away his instruments. “Just take it easy for the rest of the day.”

  “Okay, thank you.” I sit back on the bed as he lets himself out.

  I sigh and rest my head back on the pillow. Ever since I got back from The Bahamas, it’s been an emotional rollercoaster, and the bomb is the icing on the cake. Things can only get worse from here, not better.

  20

  Milo

  I pace my office floor, feeling rage consume every fiber of my being.

  It’s been a long time since I felt this out of control, but Malachy has declared war. Turns out the coward who fucked us over was his cousin. He wouldn’t listen to reason that the same cousin betrayed him and was working for the Russians.

  The attempt on Aida’s life has me shook when it shouldn’t. An arranged marriage should mean she’s disposable to me, and when I got the call from Piero, all I felt was panic.

  I haven’t even gone to see her since the attack, as the doctor confirmed she’s fine, just in shock. The thought of facing her makes me feel sick to the stomach, and I can’t understand why.

  Piero stands in the corner, leaning against the wall. “What’s the plan, sir?”

  I stop pacing and meet his cool gaze. In the twenty years that I’ve known the guy, I’ve never seen anything shake him. Even an attack in my home doesn’t seem to rattle his unbreakable resolve. Normally, I’m calm under pressure, but the fact that Malachy struck at my home has shaken me.

  “Malachy must pay for this,” I say, running a hand across the back of my neck. “I’m not sure we can avoid war after such a blatant attack.” I walk to the dresser at the back of my study and pour myself a glass of scotch. The fiery liquid helps ease the tension coiling through every muscle in my body.

  “Do you have any ideas in mind about how to strike back?” Piero asks.

  I tip the rest of my glass down my throat before pouring another one. “The Irish run the fucking docks, which is going to be a problem.”

  Piero clears his throat. “It’s a problem I’ve been thinking about for a while, even before this happened, sir.”

  I meet his gaze. “Do you have any solutions?”

  He nods. “Yes, Salem dock is small, but none of the crime gangs have even thought about claiming the territory. Everyone wants to bring product directly into the heart of the city.” He shrugs. “It’s ideal if you can bring it straight in, but with a possible war breaking out between the Irish and us, we need to consider alternatives, and I think Salem is perfect.”

  It’s an intriguing idea that might help our bottom line since the Irish don’t give us a favorable rate for deliveries or the warehouse we rent at the docks. “How would it work with getting the product into the city?”

  Piero looks thankful that I’m considering his idea. “We buy a few eighteen-wheelers, and we get our guys on the run between Salem and the city. I’ve spoken to the guy that runs the docks, and he’s up for looking the other way.” He pulls his cell phone out of his pocket and brings up a price sheet. “Our costs at the dock will be a third of Boston harbor, including rental of a storage unit.”

  I nod. “Why the fuck didn’t you think of this sooner?”

  Piero pales a little as if thinking I’m serious, but the fact is no one did come up with such a genius plan.

  “Calm down, Piero. This is genius.”

  He relaxes instantly and smiles. “Thanks, sir. Shall I set it up with the dockmaster?”

  I nod. “Yes, get the ball rolling as fast as possible.”

  He places his cell phone in his pocket and pushes it off the wall. “Consider it done.” He tilts his head slightly. “What about briefing the guys?”

  I hate having meetings with my guys, but unfortunately, the fallout with Malachy makes it necessary. “Set it up for Thursday afternoon but make everyone aware of what has happened. We can’t risk any of the guys getting caught up in any trouble. Tomorrow, I need to spend with my wife.”

  Piero nods. “I’ll text you the location and time once it’s sorted.” He walks toward the door and lets himself out of my office, shutting it behind him. It’s been six hours since my wife was almost assassinated in my home.

  Ever I lost control after the charity event, I’ve kept my distance from her. I’m not the kind of man to make a fuss over an attack on my wife, at least not to her face. When Piero called me, I couldn’t believe the utter panic that coursed through me when he mentioned a parcel for Aida had exploded.

  It irritated me that I felt that panic. I shouldn’t care about Aida’s wellbeing, but for some stupid reason, I do.

  Loosening the tie around my neck, I leave my office and head toward the hallway. There’s only one thing left to do, and that’s to check on my wife. I’ve put it off long enough.

  The door isn’t shut when I get to it. Instead, it’s cracked open slightly, and I look into the room. Aida is lying on the bed with her back to me. I can’t tell whether she’s asleep or not.

  I push open the door and walk toward her, setting a hand gently on her shoulder. “Aida?”

  She groans and rolls over, opening her beautiful ch
estnut brown eyes. “Milo?” her voice is raw and hearing her say my name like that drives me wild.

  It irritates me how much she affects me.

  “How are you doing?” I ask, and it sounds stupid. She was almost blown up, for fuck’s sake.

  She brushes the hair from her face and sits up. “Tired,” she says, not looking me in the eye.

  There’s been a disconnect between us ever since I fucked her after the charity event. The undeniable sexual tension that had been there from the moment she stepped off that plane has been muted.

  “Aida, look at me,” I order.

  I notice her hesitation as she keeps her eyes fixed to her hands. Irritation coils through me as I wonder if she intends to force me to ask again. Instead, she brings her gaze to meet mine.

  There’s anger in her eyes—anger so fierce it borders hatred.

  Aida hasn’t seen the true extent of my darkness. If she thinks my treatment of her has been cruel, she hasn’t seen anything yet. I have been kinder to her than any other woman I’ve met.

  “I’m sorry I wasn’t here when the bomb exploded.” I haven’t forgotten my promise. I spoke to her in the ocean outside the grotto, and I meant every word. She may believe I’m a monster, but I protect what is mine. Aida is my property now, whether she likes it or not.

  I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise. I’ll protect you.

  My promise hasn’t been kept.

  She shrugs. “What does it matter? I’m nothing more than a slave to you.” Aida looks away from me.

  My rage has a life of its own. My possession over this beautiful creature consumes me.

  I grab hold of her chin forcefully, pulling her gaze back to mine. “I didn’t say you could look away.” I search Aida’s brown eyes and the passion of anger inside of them. It mirrors my own.

  She spits in my face. “You’re a fucking pig,” she says.

  A growl-like rumble rises from deep in my chest as I let go of her chin and wipe the saliva away. “Have I taught you nothing since you arrived here?” I feel passionate rage infecting my blood.