Strong Mafia Daddy by Scott Wylder
CHAPTER SEVEN
Zoe
I didn’t waste any time unpacking my possessions in my room. I wanted a sense of normalcy as soon as possible, and it would be easier once I was surrounded by my familiar old junk instead of just the plush luxuries in the room.
Most of my belongings were just for practical use. I mainly had clothes, a few books that I read on my work breaks, and a beat-up old laptop. The only thing I had that was sentimental was my teddy bear.
It was a beat-up old bear that my parents got from a second-hand store when I was little, but I loved it. It was the only thing from my childhood that I kept. The fur was worn down to nothing, and one of the arms had ripped and been restitched several times, but it was just as cuddly to me.
After I finished unpacking, I curled up on the bed, hugging my bear to my chest. It felt good. When I was hugging the teddy bear, I forgot I was trapped in a mob boss’s house in the middle of nowhere.
There was a knock on the door, and I sat up, hiding the bear behind my back. “Come in,”
Tony opened the door, carrying a couple of coloring books and a deluxe pack of crayons. “The coloring books are here-- who’s this?”
I realized the teddy bear had flopped over on the bed, and its face was visible. I blushed. “It’s nothing.”
“It can’t be nothing. It must mean a lot to you.” He sat down on the bed, setting the coloring supplies down next to him. Gently, he pulled the bear out from behind me. “Does he have a name?”
I searched his face, looking for any sign of mockery or disdain, but I didn’t find any. Just a kind smile on his face as if he wanted nothing to do right now except talk to me about my teddy bear. It didn’t make sense. My parents and brother mocked me for holding onto the bear after I got too old to play with it. But here was this dangerous, terrifying man acting as if it was the most normal thing in the world. “I never named it,” I said. “I’m not that creative.”“You’re plenty creative, little one. You wouldn’t enjoy coloring if you weren’t.” He ran his thumb over the clumsy stitching on the bear’s arm, where I desperately tried to sew it up after the seam wore through. “Regardless of the name, it’s clear you love the bear very much.” He handed it back to me, and I hugged it to my chest. “I’m going to be busy with paperwork for the rest of the afternoon. Tedious stuff for the clubs. How about you bring your coloring books and crayons into my office and you can color while I work? I have a big, fluffy carpet you can spread out on, and after we’re done, I can take you out to dinner. How does that sound?”
I found myself smiling. Even though the idea of it sounded a little childish, nothing sounded better than coloring on the floor. It just felt so innocent and carefree. I couldn’t remember the last time I felt like that. “That sounds great.”
He smiled. “Good girl.”My stomach did a flip flop whenever he said that. But I realized I didn’t mind that either.
He had gotten me two coloring books. One was fairytale-themed, and the other one had a bunch of cute zoo animals. Usually, I would be all over the zoo animal one, but today the fairytale one seemed more appropriate. Something about being in this massive mansion with a dangerous man acting as my protector put me in the mood for fairytales.
As I followed him from my room to his office down the hall, I scolded myself. What was wrong with me? This wasn’t a fairytale, and Tony wasn’t a knight in shining armor. He was a murderer who would have killed Jack over a bad debt if I hadn’t intervened. He did terrible things all the time-- he admitted it himself. He was a mob boss. I shouldn’t be getting butterflies when he looks at me, and I definitely shouldn’t be letting down my guard around him.
But despite all that, he was kind to me. He didn’t judge me or try to force me into doing something I didn’t want, even though he could easily do so. He was kind and understanding. He even got me coloring books so I would have something fun to do while he worked. He might be a scary mafia leader, but there was another side to him as well.
His office was big and spacious, with a writing desk in one corner and walls lined with bookshelves. The soft, white carpet sank under my feet when I stepped on it. He was right, I would be very comfy coloring on the floor while he did his work.
I spread out on the floor a few feet away from his desk with my coloring book. I turned to a page at random and bit my lip when I realized I turned to the page where Beauty meets the Beast. Somehow, it feels a little too fitting.
