Page 38 of Domination

Tommy: You pay way too much attention to what Papa does.

Me: He’s learned from the best.

I can practically see Rafael’s eyes roll as he reads that.

Rafael: The last thing I want is my children knowing I piss on their mama.

Here he fucking goes; the little pricks love to remind me I exploited my sexual preferences in front of them. Something else I would change if I could go back. Though I don’t recall pissing on any of my pets or wives in their presence. My jaw tics and my hands ball into fists. I should have been more vigilant, more of a father. I love my boys more than anything, but Mafia life took over so much I never gave them the childhood they deserved, and if I could go back in time, I wouldn’t change it. They became the best versions of themselves that they need to be to survive this world.

It doesn’t mean I have to like it or that I’m proud of all my actions.

Rocco: I missed seeing that.

There, confirmation I never did it in front of my kids. The tension eases from me as I exhale a breath I wasn’t aware I was holding.

Rafael: It was the one that tried to drown you.

Fan-fucking-tastic.

I’m a useless father. No wonder I prefer to shower women in affection. I never get this hassle from them. I leave the phone on the counter, then grab the tray and kick open the door to the breakfast room.

I freeze.Holy fuck!

There she is, naked and kneeling for me, and all thoughts of being pissed at my sons and punishing her for her attitude are banished.

The moment I slip onto my chair and shuffle forward, her hands move to rest on my thighs, and I stroke her hair. “Good Little Pet.”

She lifts her head, and the emotion in her eyes stuns me for a second. “I want you to be happy with me.”

My breath catches. Does she seriously think I could be anything other than happy with her? Does she think I won’t keep her if she doesn’t behave?

“Daddy is very happy with you.” I smooth over her hair as she works my zipper down, and suddenly, my day feels a whole lot better.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Gracie

Hazel is babysitting for me, and to say it feels strange to be out of the house without Bonnie is an understatement. I don’t like it. Add in the fact I’ve never been to a mall before, and every sight and sound leaves my pulse racing as my gaze flicks from one store to the next.

The marbled floors and high ceilings with extravagant lighting are not how I envisaged a mall to be. The shops have elegant dresses in the windows; some have gold lettering above the doors, and others have fancy entrances to entice you. Each makes me feel out of my element. I do not belong here, not at all.

“Can I suggest actually going in a store?” Massio drawls, pointing toward one of the stores. He’s clearly agitated he’s been left to escort me. The way he watches me with contempt has my nerves on edge, but I never asked for a bodyguard.

“I-I don’t know which one to go in,” I admit, hating the sound of my own voice.

He sighs heavily, then drags his hand over his shaved head. If he wasn’t such an ass, he’d be handsome, but that coupled with the fact he doesn’t have silver streaks in his hair, wrinkles around his eyes, or slightly weathered skin has me cringing. I’m pretty sure he feels the same way about me, given how he tends to look through me instead of at me.

“Boss said you need clothes. The women he uses tend to come back with bags from in there.” He points toward a boutique, but my spine bolts straight and anger radiates through me. I don’t want to be one of them. I don’t want to be another pet that gets used and disposed of, to dress and act like them.

Is that what he thinks of me? Is he trying to mold me into one of those women?

I lift my chin high. “I’ll find my own store.”

He chuckles, and his eyes dance with humor, then he glances at his watch. “Can you hurry up? I’d like to do some real work today.”

“You’re an ass,” I snap, and march toward a store that looks more like a thrift store than a boutique and out of place in the glamorous mall.

After trudging through the endless shops, we finally make it back to Vinny’s house. I want nothing more than to refer to it as my home, but it isn’t and if I’m honest, the constraints of the Mafia lifestyle never will be, notwhen my heart is at the ranch. My home is nestled among the fields, where freedom lies in wait. Where Bonnie can grow up without threats of violence and bloodshed, without manipulation and cruelty.

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