Hitman Daddy by Aster Rae

22

Nikolai

"Central Park. Friday night."

Igor's muscles flex as we study the printout in Timofey's office.

Darkness hits me in the chest.

The wedding went better than I ever expected and it was such an amazing break from Mafia life.

But reality has a funny way of snapping back.

The Ricci family has returned.

My top soldiers found Marco Amelio.

He's a drug dealer from the Bronx with underworld connections.

I tortured him for six days until he broke down.

He told me that Luca approached him with the knowledge that he saw Christian and I talking at the club.

It was a shock to me because I didn't know if Luca had actually seen us or not.

He had.

Luca paid Marco thirty-thousand-dollars to burn down my restaurant and retreated to his compound in upstate New York.

Luca’s coming back to the city this weekend.

There's only one way to restore normalcy in this town.

A public hit.

"Central Park?" I grit my teeth.

"Luca will take engagement photos for his cousin Maria's upcoming bridal shower from ten to two,” Igor says. “We only get one chance."

Killing someone in public isn't easy.

When I was in my late twenties, we tracked down a notorious Colombian cartel member and tied him to one of the infamous gates in front of Central Park.

We tortured him for hours until he gave us information we needed.

Turns out it wasn't cartels infiltrating our territory.

It was the Italians.

We got the information we needed but not without making national news.

It threatened to blow our cover sky high.

We already take risks in this business.

The last thing I need is to get caught blowing Luca's head off on a security camera.

"It'll be fine." Igor’s eyes turn to slits.

"I don't want to blow our cover by coming after Luca in such a public location," I counter.

A public hit is one thing.

But a public hit in Central Park?

The authorities will swamp us if we make too much noise.

"Nothing else has worked so far." Timofey takes a sip of dark roast. His fingers curl menacingly around the Starbucks cup. "We need to take this bastard down."

The office door swings open.

Shock unfurls inside me when a dark man walks in.

It's Demetri.

He's wearing an expensive tailored suit with platinum cufflinks.

He hulks over us, his enormous stature rising to the ceiling.

"Demetri." My voice is low.

One look at my cousin tells me not to fuck around.

Demetri is a ruthless bastard. He's also one touchy fuck.

He kills more men in a six-month period than my father has his entire career.

He also has a short fuse.

My father made the mistake of confronting him at my cousin Lucia's wedding three years ago.

Demetri was polishing his Glock. My father told him to put it away.

He shot my father in front of everyone. He ordered him never to speak to him again.

No one tells Demetri what to do.

Dimitri is a firecracker. A wild card.

He'll help you but you never know what he'll do.

"Igor called," Demetri growls.

Timofey glares at Demetri. "We don't need your help."

"We've been tracking this bastard down for four months without success." Igor snarls. "Demetri’s known for his kills. He'll put a bullet in Luca's head."

"What's the matter, Igor?" I sneer. "You don't have the balls to kill Luca yourself?"

"We tried." Igor's fingers curl into a fist. "We lured him to Crave. We infiltrated his family's security network. But we haven't been successful. We killed his soldier Marco. He stays one step ahead of us every time."

"But we’re on the right track," Timofey snarls. "We're taking him out in Central Park. Demetri will fuck up our plans."

Sides begin to form.

"Demetri will help us." Igor’s eyes flare. "That's what he does. He's a cleaner."

Igor is spot on.

Demetri and his younger brother Kristof made their names in the New York City crime scene by being fixers.

They clean messy crime scenes and remove dead bodies.

They’re the men to call to make unsavory dealings legit.

Last year when Igor had trouble removing the body of an unauthorized weapons dealer from a SoHo apartment — he killed him in a fit of violent rage and was frantically scrubbing a puddle of blood after our previous fixer stop working with us because we were too violent — I immediately called Demetri.

Demetri's family showed up with a fake cleaning service.

They scrubbed the DNA evidence from the apartment.

They cut out the carpet, burned it, and replaced it the same day.

They cut the body into pieces and used it as shark bait in the Atlantic.

But Demetri wasn't satisfied to stick with his family.

He wanted more.

More action.

More rewards.

After Lucia's wedding, Demetri started doing hits for my father.

Surprisingly, my father didn't hold a grudge for Demetri's behavior at the wedding.

He recognized that Demetri could be an asset to his empire even though Demetri forced him to get ten stitches in the face.

We've worked together countless times.

But it hasn't always been easy.

Demetri shoots first and ask questions later.

That's not always a problem.

Even though we have half the city's politicians in our back pocket — as well as two New York City Supreme Court justices — I don't want the violence to get out of hand.

If our justices turn against us, we're fucked.

"I know Demetri is a cleaner," I spit out. "But I already fucked up by trying to take Luca out at my club. We have too much exposure. We need to keep a low profile. The mayor won't sweep our crimes under the rug if we royally fuck up."

That's the way it works in New York.

Generous bribes ensure that politicians look the other way when we murder violent thugs.

For contributions to reelection campaigns, they pretend we don't exist.

But those same politicians will pounce if we make too much noise.

If citizens get word that violent mobsters are killing men left and right, the same politicians we financed will turn in an instant.

More politicians will pop up in their places even if we kill the existing ones.

I can't let that happen to my family. Not now.

Demetri’s eyes turn to ice. "Luca’s made a fool out of your family for months. You need to take him out or else you'll lose respect. I can help."

I shake off Demetri's hand. I remove myself from the conversation.

A wave of darkness washes over me as I let my brothers duke it out.

Why am I doing this?

Do I even want to kill Luca?

Do I want to still be a hitman?

Christian's beautiful smile fills my mind. I've never felt more guilty in my life.

How can I be a caring, loving Daddy to this beautiful angel if I'm hunting violent criminals?

I can't be a caring, loving Daddy with my face plastered on the five o'clock news.

Christian has no idea I'm still plotting murder and death.

I'm already on shaky ground because I lied to him throughout the entirety of our fake relationship but I don't want to break more trust.

My heart explodes with warmth as thoughts of Christian fill my mind. The wedding went better than I could've imagined. The night at the hotel was better than my wildest dreams.

Never in a million years did I think he'd wake me to play with a teddy.

The play session was perfect and I felt emotions I haven't felt in such a long time.

My boy needs me.

He needs me to pamper him and spoil him.

He needs me to recreate that night over and over again and keep him safe in my arms.

I can't do that if I'm slashing throats in Central Park.

He doesn't deserve a killer.

He deserves a Daddy.

***

It's dark outside when the meeting ends.

I leap into my Lamborghini to meet Christian.

I run into two of my father's guards outside the apartment.

"You're dismissed."

I'm watching Christian now.

His life is in my hands.

I give the guards money to grab food. I only have an hour, then I must get back to my family.

But for this next hour, it's just us.

I won't let anything happen to him for the world.

Christian buzzes me in when I knock.

I sprint up three flights of stairs until I'm standing outside his door.

My heart hammers in my chest.

I feel the stain of tonight's meeting fester in my gut.

I pray to fuck that Christian can't tell I've been plotting another murder.

Desire snakes through me when Christian opens the door.

He looks fucking amazing.

He's wearing a pair of high-cut khaki shorts with a rainbow tie-dye T-shirt.

His blond hair sticks up and his cheeks are pink.

In his left hand, he holds the teddy we played with at the hotel.

As he grins, I spot the band of his undies beneath his T-shirt.

A wave of paternal warmth courses through me.

He's wearing little ducky briefs that are baby blue with yellow.

His soft tummy shines above the band.

It takes everything in me not to pepper his body with kisses.

I don't think little Christian has any idea how cute he is, which makes him even hotter.

He's not like those Instagram boys who flaunt their attractiveness.

He's a diamond in the rough.

Beautiful. Angelic. I want him to be mine.

"You look wonderful.” Need courses through me.

Christian blushes. "This old thing?"

Yes.

So much fucking yes.

"You look like a model."

Christian lets out a soft laugh. "It's the first thing I could find. I couldn't find the right clothes."

He lifts his shirt so that the band of his underwear shows.

Lust grabs me by the loins.

"You're such a sweet boy, Christian." I slam him into my arms and press our lips together. "Those are the cutest boxers I've ever seen. I'm so excited you invited me over for a play session today. I've been swamped at the office and I can't wait to play make-believe with you."

Communication is the foundation of solid relationships.

I'm not used to using my words.

But I need to tell Christian how I feel.

How else will he know that I'm head over heels in love with him?

Christian leads me inside his apartment. "Welcome to my shitty apartment."

His voice is shy as he closes the door behind me.

He gestures to the small space. "It's not much. But Tristan and I are happy here."

Tristan and his girlfriend are snuggling on the couch.

Tristan flashes me a thumbs up. "It's nice to see you again."

"It's nice to see you too," I lie.

Tristan is a nice guy. But he's got nothing on Christian.

"Thanks again for not reporting Christian for that fake ID shit," Tristan says with a chuckle. "I'd hate to see him go to prison."

Christian and I let out a laugh. "He was never in danger," I say. "I'm not even sure that's a real crime."

"Stop talking to my roommate," Christian says jealously. "I want to show you my dinos.”

After handing me a juice box, Christian secures his grip on my hand.

He leads me to his room.

The blush on his cheeks lets me know he's feeling very shy.

My jaw drops when I see his room.

It's a little's paradise. Rows of stuffed animals sit on the bed and line the shelves.

Christian's painted the room light blue with star decals on the ceiling.

A Disney princess night light illuminates the space in shades of pink.

I smell the delicious scent of a vanilla air freshener and feel the coolness of a pink fan by the window.

Emotion wells within me. I can't help but think that if Jonah saw this room, he'd be smitten.

"It's beautiful," I say. I'm fucking breathless. No man has ever done this to me before.

No one but Christian.

Christian runs a trembling hand through his hair. "Do you like it?"

"Your room shows me that you're comfortable with who you are inside. You're not ashamed of being a little. You like sleeping with stuffed animals and you're not afraid to let anyone who swings by."

Christian gulps adorably. "Well…" He lets out a cough. "You're the only person I’ve brought to this room besides Rowan.”

"It's my safe space," Christian explains. Pink flushes his neck as he wraps his soft arms around my waist. "It's where I can be myself without anyone judging me."

His soft lips press against my chest.

I can barely contain the feelings in my body.

Not only is Christian cute as hell and basically a total catch in every way.

He's adorable AF.

I do the only thing I can think of.

Dropping to my knees, I run my thumb across his cheek. "Let me meet your stuffies."

Christian nods. "They want to meet you too. But first you have to help me change into my new dino onesie."

Oh my God. Not only do I get to meet Christian's favorite stuffed animals.

I get to help him change into the clothing he feels most comfortable in.

Could a man get any luckier than that?

Christian retrieves a folded-up onesie from his dresser.

He unfolds it in front of me. "This is my new dino onesie from Etsy. It's very dorky but I'd love to put it on."

My fingers shake as I slide Christian’s T-shirt off, dropping it to the floor in a crumpled heap.

I unbutton his shorts and slide them to his feet, my vision blurring when I see that Christian is rock hard in his undies.

I run my thumb over his hard cock.

"Daddy." Christian hides behind his palms.

“Do you like when I help you get changed?"

"Yes. It's something I've fantasized about before. I like pretending that you help me undress and kiss every inch of my body."

Lust pools in my spine. "Give me permission to kiss you. Unfortunately, I must get back to work and I can't stay long. But I'd love to give you silly Daddy kisses on your tummy."

I don't even understand what I'm saying.

I'm a savage killer who's never used the word "silly" in my life.

Yet for some reason the words flow out of me.

My brothers would laugh if they heard and Demetri would no doubt slice my head off and send it to my enemies.

But I need Christian to know that I treasure him, adore him, and accept him for who he is. Most of all, I need him to know that I have what it takes to be his Daddy.

Wrapping my fingers around Christian's hips, I pull his body close and press my lips against his soft tummy.

Christian quivers in my grip and his cock throbs in his ducky undies.

"Tell me what you're thinking," I growl. I'm drunk. Drunk on Christian.

"It tickles," Christian whispers.

"Tell me to stop."

A mischievous grin forms on his face. "Not in your dreams, Daddy."

A raspy laugh escapes me. I kiss him again, spinning him around and yanking his briefs to his thighs, exposing his pale ass.

A growl tears out of me as I playfully bite his ass, chomping the tender flesh as Christian laughs and giggles.

"No more kisses," I growl. "Daddy has to get back to work in fifty minutes. Time to change you into your onesie."

I pick up the onesie and raise Christian’s nearly hairless leg into the fabric.

The fabric is so soft and Christian sighs happily as it brushes against his body.

Warmth rockets through me when I see the onesie has a dinosaur hood at the top.

"You didn't tell me your onesie had dino ears, baby boy."

Christian grins. "It was a surprise."

Christian roars when I pull the hood over his head.

A hearty laugh escapes me as his roar fills the room.

"It sounds like you want to eat me," I joke.

Christian shakes his head. "Roar means I love you in dinosaur, Daddy. I'm trying to tell you my feelings."

Roar!

I take Christian's hand and lead him to the bed.

I pull him onto my lap.

"Little Christian’s feeling silly tonight." I press his lips to mine.

"I’m not Christian," Christian whispers. "I'm a big, scary dinosaur."

"You're certainly scaring Daddy."

"Nooooo." Christian blushes. "Dinosaurs shouldn't scare Daddy. The dinosaurs protect Daddy. Outside of this apartment, Daddy protects Christian. But inside, Mr. Rex keeps Daddy safe and sound."

I try not to think what Igor and Timofey would say if they saw this.

I try not to think of the bullet my father would put in my brain if he saw me playing T-Rex with Christian.

"Daddy's so happy you decided to share this side of yourself with him," I whisper.

I have no fucking clue why I'm referring to myself in the third person but it fits.

This is the first time I've done this in so long.

My Daddy skills are understandably rusty.

Christian playfully bites my chest. "No talking tonight, Daddy. From now on, you can only refer to me as Mr. Rex."

Being Christian's full-time protector is going to take some getting used to.

It's not something I can learn overnight.

But I want Christian to feel safe and loved in my arms. If that means re-learning how to play, I'm game.

"What's this, Mr. Rex?" I pick up a stuffed brontosaurus and wave it in Christian's face.

"Dinner," Christian jokes.

He playfully sinks his teeth into the stuffy.

Blue eyes light up as they lock on mine. "Try it, Daddy."

"Daddy likes his dino medium-rare. He's not used to eating it raw."

"Come on," Christian whines. "Take a bite. We can throw it on the grill if you don't like it."

I bring the toy dino to my mouth and take an enormous bite.

"Is it yummy?" Christian queries.

I try not to envision my father cutting my head off.

I try not to envision Luca filming this and blackmailing me.

"It's the best goddamn dinosaur I've had in my life."

Christian thrusts his arms around my waist. "Yay. I didn't let you down."

"I'll be ordering all my dinos raw from now on," I grunt. “I’ll even convince Igor to do the same."

"No talking about Igor at the dinner table. This is our special time. Mr. Rex doesn't want your big scary brothers intruding."

I let out a laugh. “Deal."

I push the thoughts of my criminal family to the wayside.

For the next fifty minutes, I focus solely on Christian, playing dinosaurs to the best of my ability.

I don't want to leave.

I don't want to go back and figure out how to kill Luca with Demetri.

I want to stay with Christian forever.