Mafia Daddy by Aster Rae

4

Rowan

“Thank you."

My stomach is aflutter with nerves as I stand in the doorway of Igor's penthouse.

I'm wearing my favorite red coveralls and my cutest pair of cozy socks with tiny duckies on them.

I look as sweet as a strawberry.

But even my adorable outfit isn't enough to banish the nerves from my body.

One look at Igor, and I nearly collapse in a pool of warm fuzzies.

Jesus. Christ.

If I thought Igor was smoking hot at Christian’s party, up close is something else altogether.

My future employer is a walking studmuffin today.

A groan escapes me as I take in Igor's ripped muscles, starched button-down, and expensive watch that glistens in the sunlight.

His muscles thrust against his pristinely tailored suit, and tattoos snake across his flesh, coursing across his arms and popping up behind his collar.

A scar cuts the flesh on his razor-sharp jaw before fading behind his neck.

Lust mixes with curiosity in a bucket of anxiety and desire in my chest.

"Come in, Rowan." Igor's voice is deep. "Inessa will take your drink order in the living room."

"What can I get you to drink, Mr. Rowan?" A middle-aged woman with black hair and beady eyes saunters into the living room after Igor leads me to an enormous leather sofa and instructs me to sit down.

I recognize her as the woman from Christian's engagement party at once.

“Uh.” My cheeks flush pink. "Do you have juice?"

Inessa issues me a curt nod. "We have fresh cranberry. Lemonade. And apple.”

"I'll take apple juice, please." I force a smile.

"Would you like it in a glass or in the box?"

"The box is fine." Is that a trick question? My little side requires that I drink out of juice boxes even though I'm eighteen years old.

It's basically a prerequisite of my kink.

Or at least that's what I tell myself to justify my expensive juice habits.

"Thank you, Inessa." Igor settles into a seat across from me and adjusts his diamond-encrusted watch.

Igor’s eyes flicker as he stares at me. "I summoned you today to fulfill the role of my last failed housekeeper.”

I stifle a laugh. "Failed housekeeper?"

“Yes. He was a young man I met in Soho named Mario. I was collecting rent from one of my many apartment complexes throughout the city when he bumped into me walking down the street. I moved him into this penthouse under the assumption that he would cook, sweep, and clean for me, amongst other things. Unfortunately, Mario slacked on his duties almost at once. We weren't together two months ago before I had to let him go."

I figure that bad-mouthing Igor's former employee is a fantastic way to get on his good side. "It sounds like he wasn't cut out for the job."

Igor lets out a snort. "I thought he was perfect when I saw him walking down the street in a Burberry trench coat. But I couldn't have been more wrong. Stereotypes exist for a reason. That's the last time I’ll hire a fashion model to work for me again."

"Oh man," I say, letting out a whistle. "He was a model?"

“He modeled for Louis Vuitton in Paris and walked on runways in Sweden and Milan. I thought Mario was perfect for the job, but it turns out he had nothing besides his good looks. I was wrong."

So Igor only likes gorgeous supermodels who can't form coherent sentences?

I try not to feel sad inside, but it's still disappointing.

“I'll be honest with you, Igor,” I say with a sigh. “You won't find me walking on runways in any famous cities. I'm not a model and I'm not even sure I'm housekeeper material. I'm a teenage boy who spends more time cuddling with my stuffed animals and working in an ice cream parlor than hanging out with my friends. I can also be obnoxious and moody if I don’t get enough sleep, so I have a bratty side as well. I need you to understand these things if you're going to hire me.”

Igor’s eyes flicker with something I can't place. "We can work something out, boy. Now tell me what you mean by cuddling with stuffed animals.”

Ahh.

Finally, a chance to show off my true self.

“I’m a little,” I say proudly. I pull PeeWee Roars out of my day pack and set him on the couch. "I enjoy dressing up in onesies and playing with stuffed dinosaurs and toys. It's part of who I am. If you give me this position, I won't wear traditional clothes or a uniform that other housekeepers wear. I'm most comfortable in my coveralls and onesies, so you'll mostly see me wearing those around the house. I understand if my demands are too much for you. But I refuse to change who I am for a job.”

"I know what a little is, Rowan." Igor struggles to conceal a smile. "That's one of the reasons I was drawn to you at Nikolai's engagement party. Your duck socks and the binky around your neck were so precious and cute. You're not shy about who you are and that's something I've never seen in a man before. You caught my attention, and I thought your outfit was as sweet as cherry pie. That's why I needed to invite you into my home."

"Well," I say, patting PeeWee Roars on the head, “it won’t be easy working with me. I can be a brat and I need lots of praise. For example, if I discover something that falls under the couch, you’ll need to drop everything you're doing and tell me that you're proud of me for helping you out. I also need lots of free time to play with my stuffed animals and be myself. I like to read books on my Kindle and diamond paint to relieve stress. But I promise that if you give me the space I need, I'll be a perfect housekeeper for your penthouse."

"Do you want to know your duties?" Igor asks.

“Sure." I beam. "I'm eager to learn.”

"Your job is to clean up after my personal assistant, Inessa. You'll receive a room on the third floor with a private balcony and pool. When you wake in the morning, Inessa will make you breakfast and take you to get your morning massage. Inessa is an amazing housekeeper, but sometimes she's sloppy with her work. You’ll clean up after her every day and make sure that she's doing a suitable job. This includes checking under my sofas for dust bunnies and sweeping up any scraps that she leaves lying around. Some of the tasks are demanding. Others, not so much."

I set down my drink. "I get massages?"

"Housekeeping is a stressful job. You need massages every morning to work out the kinks."

I take a sip of my juice, then set it on the vestibule next to the window. "This is unbelievable. You want to move me into your crazy penthouse. Give me free meals and massages. And all I have to do is sweep and clean the floors?”

"Your point?"

"There's a catch."

Igor stares into my eyes for a bit too long.

All at once, I'm floating in a pool of chocolatey warmth that stretches into infinity.

My heart swells as a spark leaps out of Igor's eyes and flies to mine.

“There's no catch," Igor says, his voice soft. "Inessa has a bad habit of leaving dust bunnies under couches. Your job will be to check her work when she's done."

"What's the pay?" I ask.

“Fifty-thousand-dollars."

"Fifty what?!"

"Fifty-thousand-dollars," Igor grunts again. "In addition to the living arrangements we already discussed, you’ll sleep in my best free room with a private balcony and expansive views of Central Park. There's only one condition of your employment."

"What's that?" I gulp.

"You start today." A devilish smirk pulls at Igor's lips.

I shake my head. "I appreciate the offer. But there's no way I can start right now."

"I'm afraid you don't have a choice."

I make a face. "I have things to wrap up at home, Igor. My grandmother needs someone to keep her house up when I leave. I need at least a week to make arrangements."

"Give me your checking account number and routing information." Igor pulls out his phone.

I provide Igor with the necessary information and he enters something on his keypad.

Ding.

"Check your account." Igor sets his phone on the glass coffee table.

I pull out my phone and gasp when I see the number on the screen. "Ten grand?"

"That’s enough to take care of your grandmother's needs for the next thirty days. Hire the best housekeeping and meal delivery services you can find."

"I appreciate your generosity, Igor. But I still need at least a week."

A low growl escapes Igor. "Not gonna work."

"Why not?"

“I need you to start today."

"Sorry." I stand up. I pack up PeeWee Roars and head to the door. "I need to talk it over with my friends first. And I need at least seven days to think it over before I agree to something I might regret."

Igor stands up. "If you leave, you'll never step foot in here again."

I whip around lightning fast, glaring at Igor angrily. "You do not get to talk to me like that," I growl, jamming my finger onto his nose. "I need seven days to think about it. You’ll get your answer then.”

I remove my lanyard with my pacifier on it and slide it into Igor’s palm. “I’ll be back in seven days. But I can't make a decision without talking it over with my friends first.”

I throw my day pack over my shoulders and walk out of the door.

My heart hammers in my chest as I step into the elevator.

Igor is beautiful. He’s filthy rich and super kind.

But he's also grumpy and controlling.

I mean, there’s no way in hell I can move into his house without talking it over with my friends first.

And I need to chat with my stuffies as well.

How else will I make sure they'll be happy in their new home?

One thing’s certain.

Igor might be my new boss.

He might even accept me for who I am inside.

But he has another thing coming if he thinks he can boss me around.