Mafia Daddy by Aster Rae

9

Rowan

"This one is cute."

I blow out a breath as I stand in my favorite toy shop with my friend Karter.

It’s a sweet shop called Faye’s Toy Emporium that the sweetest old lady — i.e. my adopted grandmother who rescued me from a group home when I was twelve — Mrs. Faye owns in the Bronx.

I’ve been going here since middle school to peruse the toy section and scoop up stuffed dinosaurs.

It's my safe space. My chapel. My sanctuary.

And today, Karter wants to come with me.

He wants to scope out new toys before he leaves on an animal rescue mission trip to South America next month to rescue tiny duckies.

Thank fuck Igor — beautiful, sexy, generous Igor — was sweet enough to give me the afternoon off.

He took me for my morning massage and treated me to the most expensive breakfast in New York City.

We ate scrambled eggs and drank fresh-squeezed grapefruit juice in a skyscraper overlooking the city.

We even went to Central Park and discussed Igor’s real estate empire while we took pictures of the ducks.

Then Igor returned to work and Karter messaged me on Discord saying he wanted to hang out.

I leapt at the chance.

How could I say no to my friend?

"He’s adorable." I run the stuffed dino through my fingers.

This is the cutest little dino ever.

He’d look so good with PeeWee Roars.

"Christian would love that," Karter jokes. "Maybe you should get it for him as a wedding present."

Christian’s wedding is coming up in a few weeks.

Igor and I want to go together but we haven’t picked out a gift yet.

This dino is the perfect present.

"I’ll consider it," I say. "But I doubt Christian would want it. Nikolai buys Christian everything he dreams of. Why would Christian like this dino when he’s used to limited edition stuffies from Louis Vuitton?"

So much time has passed since Nikolai first met Christian in our old ice cream parlor.

It was a lifetime ago that Nikolai hulked in through the front door and made Christian an offer he couldn’t refuse.

He took Christian out for Mexican at Taco Taxi and offered to pay his tuition to be his fake boyfriend.

Just the memory of Nikolai’s manly gaze locking on Christian sends chills across my spine.

It's the exact same way Igor looks at me in the penthouse.

Igor doesn’t think I see him, but I totally do.

Sometimes in the morning when I come into the kitchen for Inessa’s breakfast du jour, Igor can’t take his eyes off me.

He ogles me like I’m the most precious gift in the world when I’m checking for dust bunnies.

Sometimes, I get the feeling that Igor would love to sit me on his lap and sing lullabies to me.

My fantasies are driving me crazy.

Daddy. Singing to me. Kissing me to ward off the scary dreams.

Tucking me into bed as he makes me a delicious almond milk bottle and rocks me to sleep.

The worst part?

I totally want him to.

I want him to be my scary protector but also to be my perfect sweet Daddy at night.

The chemistry between us is electric but sometimes all I want to do is crawl into his arms.

It’s sleep time, Daddy.

I want to snuggle now.

“Oh please," Karter says, snapping me out of my daze. "Christian’s a billionaire’s princess now, but he still appreciates cute stuffies."

Karter pulls out his phone.

KinkyKarter: Would u want this as a wedding present

KinkyKarter: *sends pic of dino stuffy*

ChristianAKABestie:Uwu yes >.<

KinkyKarter:Rowan will get it for your wedding next week :)

ChristianAKABestie:Thank u Rowan :) He’ll fit right in with Cuddleofagus Rex

I roll my eyes. "Whatever."

"A boy like Christian can’t live without cute stuffies, even if they’re not from Louis Vuitton," Karter jokes.

Just then the sweetest woman in my life waltzes over.

My adopted grandmother Mrs. Faye.

She’s holding two cups of bubbly liquid in her hands that I immediately identify as my favorite lemon soda on the planet.

"Rowan," she coos, setting the cups on a small table.

Instantly, my heart turns to jelly.

"Grandma!" I race across the room and throw my arms around her.

Mrs. Faye embraces me. "I’m so glad you made it today, Rowan. I was worried you wouldn’t show up to introduce me to your friend."

I let out a laugh. "Where are my manners?" I joke, untangling myself from her arms.

I tug Karter toward her. "Karter, this is Mrs. Faye. She’s the woman who’s supported my toy addiction since I was twelve."

"It’s nice to meet you." Karter pumps Mrs. Faye’s hand.

"Rowan was a little boy when he first walked into my shop," Mrs. Faye says as she smiles warmly. "He passed by the window every morning on his way to middle school to glimpse the toys. Eventually, I invited him in. He made a habit out of it. He’s stopped by every Saturday morning since."

My heart warms as I recall those distant memories.

They happened long ago but they’re fresh as ever.

I’d stop in with my tiny backpack and tiptoe around the toy aisle like I was scoping out drugs or something.

I was grateful when Mrs. Faye suggested I stop by Saturdays instead.

She’s the only adult who’s ever understood my regression kink.

She was the first person who accepted me when I came out as a little at sixteen and she’s the only person who’s understood me for who I am.

"There’s something you’re forgetting," I say shyly, crossing my hands behind my back.

"What?" Mrs. Faye asks.

"You didn’t just invite me into your shop," I say. "You gave me a place to be myself without worrying about people making fun of me. You signed the adoption papers and welcomed me into your home. You were the only person who ever understood my regression kink and didn't judge me for it. You helped me accept myself for who I was as a teenager. I’m so grateful we met."

My dear old grandmother hands me a glass of bubbly soda. "Never stereotype an old lady, Rowan. We’ve been around the block many times in our lives. We’re the most supportive human beings on this planet."

"Now drink your lemon soda so we can pick out some toys," she jokes.

I hand the glass I'm holding to Karter and accept a second glass from Mrs. Faye.

"Thank you," Karter says, beaming at Mrs. Faye.

"Anytime, dear."

We browse the stuffed animal section with my dear old friend until my heart melts.

She shows me a new shipment of stuffed unicorns and I nearly collapse as I take them in my hands.

We also look at a fresh assortment of onesies with tiny dinos and trucks on them.

"Oh my God." I gasp. I take a onesie off the shelf. "These are so pretty."

"Do you know why I bought them?" Mrs. Faye hums.

"No." I shake my head.

"You said you wanted to start an Etsy shop for ABDL clothing online. But it’s expensive to source onesies and little boy pajamas without connections to manufacturers. I bought these for you."

Warmth wells in my heart as I run the fine fabric through my hands.

They’re the softest onesies I’ve ever felt.

How did Mrs. Faye get these?

I can make so many bibs and blankets out of these.

"Thank you." I bury myself in Mrs. Faye’s chest once again.

She pats my head. "You’re a good kid. I'm happy you're in my life, Rowan. I can't wait for you to become a true adult soon so you can finally find a Daddy and be truly free."

When our visit comes to an end, Karter and I grab lunch at a salad bar next to Central Park and eat our weight in croutons.

We laugh and joke but secretly I’m only thinking about two things.

Igor and Mrs. Faye.

I want to help this sweet lady who’s always been so nice to me.

This is why I need to get my clothing business off the ground.

This is why I need to make money.

My heart swells when I think of Igor.

There’s something real between us.

My body brims with passion every time we bump into each other in his halls.

Yet Igor is still my employer, and he clearly cycles through housekeepers faster than news stations churn out chyrons.

I’m attracted to him physically and emotionally.

But then Christian's words flash through my head.

"Don't do it, Rowan."

If Igor is really such a playboy, I can’t afford to let myself get in too deep.

Even if he did confess that he’s a Daddy.

I can't fall for a man who’ll toss me to the streets once he's had his fill of me.