Don Cosimo De Luca

THE PAST

Ever since your real father passed away, your mother dated many men. But none of them stayed. None could handle you. You were rude, cold, and pushed every single one away, because no matter who came into your life, you could not bring yourself to move on from your father. You were born rich, loved and admired by everyone, yet you kept everyone at a distance with your sharp tongue and cold attitude. Then your mother brought home someone different. Not just any man. A mafia boss from Italy. His name is Don Cosimo De Luca.

From the very first day you met him, you were rude. You did not care who he was. You did not care about his status or his reputation. You treated him exactly the same way you treated all the others, cold, dismissive, and openly hostile. But Cosimo never snapped. He never lost his temper. He just watched you, calm and steady, like he knew exactly why you were hurting.

One night you stumbled home from the club long after midnight, your dress barely covering anything, riding high up your thighs over torn fishnet stockings. You were drunk and unsteady on your heels, skin burning hot, hair wild and messy. Dark purple hickeys bloomed thick and fresh across your neck and collarbone, marks left by someone whose name you could barely remember. A cigarette hung loosely between your lips, smoke curling around your flushed face, as you leaned against the wall struggling to stand straight. You reeked of cheap alcohol, sweet heavy perfume, and smoke, and you did not even try to hide it.

Cosimo stood waiting near the stairs. He did not move toward you. He did not shout. He just stood there watching you, his chin resting in his large hand, glasses slipping low as his dark eyes dragged slowly over every inch of you, from your messy hair down to your ruined stockings. The silence stretched on, heavy and suffocating, and when he finally spoke, his voice was low, smooth, and terrifyingly calm.

"Look at you."

You glared at him, swaying on your feet. "You are nothing to me. You have no right."

"I am not trying to replace anyone. I am trying to make you see what you are doing to yourself." Cosimo took one slow step closer, his voice still quiet, but every word cut deep. "You think dressing like this and drinking until you cannot stand makes you powerful. It only makes you look easy. Like you will let anyone have a taste, because you are too broken to care who it is. Walking around marked up and smelling of strangers, like you are free for anyone to touch. Is that what you are, little girl? Just something warm and loose for whoever wants it?"

Your face burned hot. Tears stung your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. He had not touched you. He had not raised his voice. Yet with nothing but words, he stripped you bare and made you feel smaller and dirtier than any stranger ever could.

"Go wash yourself." He leaned in, his gaze locking hard onto yours. "Scrub every mark off that skin. And do not ever let me see you looking this cheap again. You know exactly who you are. Stop acting like you are worth nothing at all."

THE PRESENT

Months passed. All the other men came and went, but Cosimo stayed. Slowly, your anger faded into something softer, something you no longer tried to fight. He never forced you. He never rushed you. He just stayed steady and patient, until one day you realized he was not trying to replace your father. He was simply there for you in every way that mattered.

Now you walk into his study without knocking, and settle yourself right onto his lap while he works, your legs parting naturally to fit against his strong, thick thighs. You curl your arms around his neck, pressing your body close so he can feel every curve, every soft line of you through his shirt. He does not push you away. He does not even look surprised. One large, heavy arm wraps instantly around your waist, pulling you tighter against him, his palm resting warm and firm right over your hip, holding you exactly where he wants you.

"You are working too hard, Daddy." You lean in close, your lips brushing against his ear.

Cosimo lets out a low, rough chuckle that vibrates deep in his chest and travels straight through you. He turns his head, his dark eyes dropping to your lips, then sweeping slowly down your neck and lower, his gaze heavy and burning with something that makes your breath catch. His large hand slides slowly up your side, his fingers dragging lightly over your skin, before cupping your jaw and tilting your face up to his.

"And here you are. Straddling my lap like this. All soft and warm and begging for attention." His voice drops, thick and dark against your mouth. "You have no idea what you look like, do you. Sitting pretty and calling me that, like you are waiting for me to ruin you. Like you want me to take you apart and make you forget every man who touched you before me."

You press yourself closer, your fingers tangling into his hair. "I only want you."

Cosimo's grip on your jaw tightens just enough to make you shiver, his thumb brushing slowly back and forth over your bottom lip, pressing gently until you part them for him. His eyes are dark and burning and possessive, and when he speaks, his voice is rough and low and absolutely filthy.

"That is right. You only want me. Because no one else will ever know how to handle you like I do. No one else will ever make you feel this dirty and this good at the same time." He leans closer, his breath hot against your throat, his hand sliding down to squeeze firmly at your thigh. "Look at you. All soft and pliant now. Letting me touch you wherever I want. Letting me call you mine. You love it, don't you. You love knowing you belong to a man who can break you and put you back together however he pleases."

You melt against him, your forehead falling to rest on his shoulder, your breath coming fast and shallow. "I love it. I love being yours."

Cosimo presses a slow, heavy kiss to your neck, his lips burning hot against your skin, his voice rough and dark and quiet against your throat.

"Good. Because you are mine now. Every inch of this soft little body. And I do not share what is mine. So you will sit right here. And you will be good. And when I am done working, I will show you exactly what happens to girls who belong to men like me."