1
Riggs
Growing up as the only son of a mafia boss, you’d think I’d have had the world handed to me on a plate. And you’d be right. Except for one thing.
Her…
She moved in three weeks ago. Ava, my father’s new bride. Of course there’s no love between them; she’s just a trophy wife – something gorgeous for him to keep on his arm and make him look good.
She’s utterly gorgeous, model material, and only twenty years old.
As of today, that makes her ten years younger than me.
When she first stepped into the penthouse, I thought my dad was joking. He’s fifty, for fuck’s sake! I know the older-man-younger-woman thing is a thing and all, but a thirty-year difference? Yeah, nobody is actually buying that she’s in love with him.
But Michael doesn’t care.
All he wants is something beautiful on his arm, whether it’s a Rolex, a diamond bracelet or a young, gorgeous virgin. Yeah, he shared that information with me. It’s safe to say my dad and I don’t have the most conventional relationship.
He’s a kingpin. A complete sociopath who will do whatever it takes to remain in power. He doesn’t love me; I realized that when I was a child. He loves the idea of me – having a son so he can project this image to the world, but that’s all. I grew up with everything, but everything came with a price.
I had to do what he said, when he said it, and how he said it, or there would be repercussions. When I was eighteen I went out with a girl he specifically forbade me from going out with. The date went well, I kissed her goodnight, and two days later she went missing and was never heard from again.
Yeah. That’s the kind of “father” I’m dealing with.
All I want is out. Michael’s empire can crumble for all I care. I want nothing to do with it. Give me a small house with a barn where I can do my woodworking and I’ll be happy.
Well…almost happy. The only way I’ll ever truly be happy is with her by my side. But that’s impossible.
“Happy birthday!” I snap out of my stupor and look up to see three fake-boobed strippers, topless and holding a cake, prancing toward me in their high heels. Behind them, my dad is clapping his fat hands together while chewing one of his cigars.
“One for each decade, my boy!” he roars, causing the rest of the crowd to clap with him. That crowd is nothing more than my father’s men and business associates. He’s never allowed me to have any close friends, as that would mean letting a potential enemy into the family – someone that could harm him.
“Thanks, Dad,” I reply, forcing a smile. Even calling him Dad pains me. It’s like acid on my tongue – serrated metal coming out of my lips.
Most guys wouldn’t argue with six tits in their face, but it’s practically a war for me to keep my attention on the girls. It’s not that I care about offending them – I don’t. They probably don’t want to be here tonight either; it’s that I don’t want my dad to catch onto the truth…
The truth that I’m completely obsessed with my stepmom.
There she is, sitting beside him like a queen, looking like a goddess, even in the obscene, over-the-top dress my dad is making her wear tonight. It’s a mix of black and red, almost like something you’d expect a vampire to wear, and hugs her every curve like a race car hugs a track.
I’m rock hard, and it has nothing to do with the girls now giving me a triple lap dance.
I almost feel bad knowing that she’s seeing me like this, but then I remember that Ava does not share my affections. I’ve watched her since she moved in – searched her eyes for any signs that might show reciprocation, but all I’ve received are cold, stony glances like the one I’m receiving now.
Of course she doesn’t like me. She belongs to my father. I can only dream of one day being able to be with her, but for now, simply being in her presence will have to do.
“Mmm, what’s this, big boy?” the blond stripper asks as she runs her hand up my thigh to my growing bulge. “Is that for me?”
Before I can answer, the brunette chimes in. “No, that’s for me.”
“Uh uh!” the red-head whimpers, biting her thumb and giving me a sexy wink. “You bitches can have it, but not until I’m done with him.”
The blonde shoves her hand into the cake and rubs frosting all over her tits, then shakes them all over my face, causing my father to bellow with laughter. “See that, boys? Worth every penny!”
The other men clap as the girls take me by my arms and lift me out of my chair. So much for blowing out the candles and cutting the cake, I guess.
The strength it takes to not let my gaze fall on Ava’s beauty is almost more than I can muster. I focus on my heartbeat as the girls lead me into my bedroom and lock the door.
This is insane. I should be enjoying this. What guy wouldn’t be? I shouldn’t be lusting after my stepmother – a woman who has never and will never think of me in that way.
And that’s what makes this so painful. A few days ago she called me asking if I could come help her replace a bulb in her bathroom. Apparently all the other men working for my father were busy. When I got there, she was wearing the shortest shorts imaginable – I mean, they weren’t hiding anything. Her juicy ass had my cock screaming to get hard, and it took every ounce of willpower I had to keep it at half-mast while I changed her bulb.
Then, at our weekly family dinner, she asked me to help her open the champagne in the kitchen, where I found her bent over the counter like she was just begging for me to take her from behind.
And I almost did.