My mafia Daddy

4. THE PERFECT DISGUISE ________________

NINATH POV

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Dawn, 18th June. Saint Amara’s Orphanage, Long Island

•

Some mornings feel like any other and then there are mornings like this one. The air itself feels… different. Charged. A little too still. Like the world is holding its breath on my behalf, the bell rings, same brass clang, same echo through the halls, but today it feels like it’s ringing for me. I barely slept. Every time I closed my eyes, my prayer whispered itself back into my mind. The prayer I’ve repeated so many nights it’s become part of my heartbeat.

Lord, if I am made for more… let me be brave enough to find it.

Soft without being broken, kind without being crushed, seen without being hunted.

Let me want things without being punished, ask questions without losing faith, and forgive those who shame me.

If you truly gave me this face, this body, this voice… then help me carry it without fear.

And if none of this is part of Your plan… please keep me safe one more day.

For years, those words were the only place my hope could breathe. Every night, I prayed for something, anything to change. For a sign. A hand reaching for mine from somewhere beyond these walls. And every morning, I woke up to the same sheets, the same rules, the same quiet ache in my chest. But today…today feels like the prayer finally answered itself. I stand in my little room, the whole world I’ve ever known and fold my blanket slowly, almost ceremonially, one last time. The fabric is worn where my fingers always tugged it into place. The wooden floor creaks exactly where it always has. The small crucifix above my bed catches the pale dawn light, as if it’s watching me leave. This room should feel comforting. It never has. Every corner feels too small, too neat, too fixed. A life shrink-wrapped into obedience. And I… was never made for small things. I didn’t have the words for it growing up, but I always felt wrong here.

A little too curious.

A little too restless.

A little too alive for a place that preferred its girls quiet and folded like linens.

The sisters said I was odd. The girls said I was cursed. God, sometimes, felt far away. But now? With dawn pressing soft against the window and my packed bag at my feet… I feel something warm bloom in my chest. Not fear, guilt or shame.

Possibility.

I smooth my hand over the blanket one more time, tracing the ghosts of every morning I woke up wishing for this very moment. Every night, I prayed for tomorrow to be different. And for the first time in my whole life… Tomorrow actually came. A breath shivers through me, half disbelief, half joy, half terror.

•

My heart beats too fast. My palms are warm. My stomach keeps flipping like a trapped bird. This is the day everything changes. And even if I’m scared…even if I don’t fully understand it… I want it. I want the world beyond these walls. I want to find out who I am when I’m not told who to be. I want whatever “more” means, even if it’s messy, loud, dangerous, or confusing. Because for the first time, I’m not just praying and dreaming anymore. I’m walking out the door.

•

Sister Luisa kneels beside my suitcase, even though it barely has anything inside it. Half-empty, half-ripped, half-useful, like a metaphor for the life I’m packing away. She smooths the lining with her palms, slow and careful, as if the fabric can somehow absorb the tremor sitting under my ribs.

„You be brave!” She whispers, without looking at me. Her voice cracks on the edges, but she swallows it quickly, pretending she didn’t hear it. I watch her hands. Hands that held me when I was two days old. Hands that brushed my hair, wiped my tears, tucked my sheets. Hands that taught me what kindness feels like. I nod, though my throat tightens too fast for words.

„I hope you’re right…” I manage, barely louder than breath. She pauses, really pauses and then turns to face me fully. Her eyes look softer than the dawn light creeping into my room.

„Nina… I have never been more certain of anything. You were never meant to stay here.” She touches my cheek, thumb brushing a freckle as if memorising its place.

„You were always a little too bright for these walls.” That makes something inside me warm and ache at the same time.

„Come…“ She says gently, patting the sad little suitcase.

„Let’s finish.” Everything I’ve ever owned weighs almost nothing. But the moment? The moment weighs everything. She closes the suitcase slowly, her palms pressed flat on top as if sealing a chapter. Then she exhales, long and trembling.

„All right, sweetheart. Breakfast starts in fifteen minutes.” She tucks a stray curl behind my ear, Lucifer’s ribbon, as always and tries very hard to smile.

„After that…” She continues.

„You’ll wait in the reading room. It’s quiet there. Peaceful. It will give you space to breathe before…” Another deep inhale. Before you leave me. She doesn’t say it, but I hear it anyway.

„…before we come get you.” I nod again, clutching the suitcase handle like it’s the only thing tethering me to the floor. My stomach flutters wildly… excitement tangled tight with dread. Sister Luisa places her hand over mine, squeezing once, firm, steady and warm.

„You’re ready.” She whispers. I wish I felt it and even more, I wish I believed it…

„I’ll try.” All I can do is whisper back. She smiles, aching, proud, full of love and guides me out of the room.

My last morning.

My last walk down this hallway.

My last few minutes of being the girl who waited.

Because any moment now, he will come for me. My future father will call my name and everything I know will end.

•

XANDER POV

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18 June, early morning. Somewhere near Long Island

•

The glass on the table still smells like whiskey, but I haven’t touched it in hours. I sit here... watching…waiting...She’s awake now. Slipped out of bed like a whisper. That same worn uniform clinging to her skin, hugging those curves that haunt my every f.ucking thought. God, she doesn’t even know what she is to me already, but she will. And it won’t be Marcus who tells her. It won’t be the nuns, and it sure as hell won’t be some f.ucking agency worker with a clipboard and a prayer. It’ll be me. When she’s ready. When she’s mine.

F.uck.

The word echoes in my skull as I shift in my seat, my c***k stirring traitorously at the mere thought of her. Innocent, oblivious and stretching like a kitten in that threadbare fabric. I can almost taste her, feel the heat of her golden skin under my palms, those freckles scattering like invitations across her cheeks. I’d pin her down, rip that uniform to shreds, bury my face between her thighs and devour her virgin p*****. until she’s sobbing my name. I’d mark her with bites, bruises, my c**m dripping from every hole and ruining her for anyone else, especially that b.astard Marcus. She’d beg for the pain, crave the way I’d choke her just enough to make her eyes roll back, f.ucking her raw until she’s a trembling, bloodied mess, addicted to the monster inside me.

No.

No…

NO!

I clench my fists, nails digging into my palms hard enough to draw blood, the sharp sting grounding me. She’s off-limits. Marcus’s blood or not, she’s just a little girl and my responsibility now, not my plaything. I won’t touch her. Won’t let this twisted lust win. I’ll save her, protect her, keep her safe from pricks like him… and from me. End of f*****g story. I repeat it like a prayer, like a blade I’m pressing to my own throat.

I will not touch her.

I will not drag my filthy hands over that smooth, golden skin.

I will not fist those ginger curls and force her head back until her throat is bared for my teeth.

I will not spread those thick thighs and sink my tongue into her untouched c.unt until she screams.

I will not bruise those perfect t.its.

I will not slap that round ass red.

I will not pin her down and split her open on my c***k while she cries and comes apart around me.

I will not mark her, breed her, or break her.

I swear it on every drop of blood I’ve ever spilt, on every grave I’ve dug, on the memory of Nina’s last breath. I swear it on the hatred I carry for Marcus, because if I let myself have her I’ll become the very thing I despise most. A man who destroys something pure just because he can. She is almost fifteen, innocent and the one thing in this world I am not allowed to ruin. I will sleep with my own door locked and a gun under my pillow in case the monster wearing my face ever tries to walk the corridor at night.

Cold showers.

Locked doors.

Distance.

Control.

I will look at her as a man who sees a girl who needs safety, not as a man who wants to devour her whole. I will be the wall between her and every predator in this world (starting with me). Because if I ever break this vow, there will be nothing left for either of us worth saving. I will have become the final, unforgivable sin. And I’d rather put a bullet in my own skull than let that happen. So help me f.ucking God. I stand as I see my men fall into place. Black cars are already idling at the gates. Fake documents burned into muscle memory. New identities polished until even God wouldn’t question them.

•

„Allora, capo, hai letto la Bibbia o qualcosa del genere per entrare nelle grazie di Dio? Hai preparato una preghiera?“ [So boss, did you read a Bible or something to get on God's good side? Have you prepared a prayer?] Emiliano says to me as we go to the car and giggles very happily. What the hell? Why should I do that?

„Di cosa cazzo stai parlando, Emiliano?!” [What the f***k are you talking about Emiliano?!] I responded confused and again a bit annoyed, but then it hit me like a train. I didn't read that file he gave me about her cause I was just so distracted by the photo and completely forgot...

„Merda.“ [Shit.] I say out loud as we sit in the car.

„Non l'hai letto, capo, vero?“ [You didn't read it, boss, am I right?] He says and chuckles a little.

„Ohh, stai zitto, lo sai già!“ [Ohh s.hut the f***k up you know it all!] I respond beyond annoyed at this point...

„Beh, conosco un paio di cose che potrebbero aiutarti, capo. Vuoi qualche consiglio da parte di quella persona fastidiosa?“ [Well I know a few things that might help you, boss. Wanna some tips from the annoying me?] He states and tries to suppress a smile. But he's right I need something. The orphanage is about two hours away so we've got plenty of time. So I nod at him and he knows.

„Prima di tutto, capo, vive in un orfanotrofio cristiano che fa parte della CAFO (Alleanza Cristiana per gli Orfani), quindi Dio è ovunque, ma il peccato e noi da nessuna parte. Essendo cresciuta lì, crede fermamente in Dio, quindi preghiere, visite in chiesa, sorelle come insegnanti, madri e amiche. Non entrerò nei dettagli perché sono sicura che hai capito cosa intendo. Poi c'è il problema che, anche se l'anziano l'ha messa lì, il che è piuttosto ironico se me lo chiedete, le mandava soldi ogni mese per avere una stanza tutta per sé e tutto ciò che desiderava. Quindi le altre ragazze dell'orfanotrofio sono gelose di lei e non ha amiche tranne suor Luisa che si prende cura di Ninath da quando aveva solo due giorni e la prende come sua...“ [First of all boss, she's living in a Christian orphanage which is under CAFO (Christian Alliance for Orphans) so God is everywhere, but sin and us nowhere. As she grew up there she strongly believes in God, so prayers, church visits, sisters as teachers, mothers and friends. I won't go into details cause I'm sure that you caught my drift. Then there is the issue that even tho the old man put her there, which is kinda ironic if you ask me, he was sending monthly money for her to have her own room and whatever she wants. Therefore the other girls in the orphanage are jealous of her and she's got no friends except sister Luisa who's been taking care of Ninath since she was only 2 days old and takes her as her own...] He says and wants to continue, but I cut him off.

„Questo è pessimo Emiliano, voglio dire, guardaci! Non possiamo semplicemente entrare lì e dire "Oh, Dio è grande, amo Dio", è assurdo. Avremmo dovuto indossare un travestimento!“ [That’s bad Emiliano, I mean look at us! We can't just walk in there like ”ouu God is great, I love god” this is absurd. We should have put on some disguise!] I raise my voice at him and see that he's taken aback by my words. I mean I know I look good, but in the mafia world. Not in the church. I have a lot of tattoos on my hands, fingers, arms, chest, neck, legs...well let's say all over my body...I’ve had people literally tell me that I look like THE DEVIL. This is bad, very very bad. Emiliano and the rest of the crew who are going with us for more security (Miriam, Matteo and Rodrigo), are kinda okay, but still...when you live in this world you just look like it. It's completely natural and I've never had a problem with it...well until now. How will my little fragile Baby girl fit in my world? When is she so naive and vulnerable? This is all just messed up.

„Scusa capo, pensavo avessi letto il file... e poi, abbiamo un bell'aspetto. Cosa c'è che non va nel nostro aspetto?“ [Sorry boss, I thought you’d read the file...and besides, we look good. What's wrong with how we look?] He responds in shock and looks at me confused. Yeah, we look good, I have a black suit on with a dark green shirt, I smell good, and my hair is smoothed back. Every woman I meet drips from me and begs me to take her, every time, every woman and everywhere. And so is Elimiano and the rest of the crew. The image is the main priority for me. When you look good and expensive, people respect you even more, not that I need all these things for people to respect me and bow to me, but I just like it. Anyway... this is f*****g whole different situation and we should have thought it through more goddamit.

„Beh, niente, certo che siamo belli, sembriamo dei fottuti gangster, mafiosi, ecco cosa c'è che non va, saputello. Ci fermeremo davanti a un orfanotrofio con la mia enorme Rolls Royce Phantom nera seguita dalla Maserati rossa di Rodrigo ed entreremo, vestiti con abiti da mille dollari, costose scarpe di pelle e Rolex al polso, per non parlare della tua catena d'oro sotto la camicia. Cazzo, dovremmo pensarci meglio! Sarà un disastro, ma dobbiamo stare calmi, sorridere e annuire finché io... non avremo quello per cui siamo venuti. Capito?“ [Well nothing, of course we look good, we look like f*****g gangsters, mafians that's what's wrong you smartass. We will stop in front of an orphanage with my huge black Rolls Royce phantom limousine followed by Rodrigo's red Maserati and walk inside, dressed in thousand-dollar suits, expensive leather shoes and Rolexes on our wrists, not even mentioning your golden chain under the shirt. f***k we should think this through more! It's gonna be a disaster, but we have to stay calm, smile and nod to them till I...we get what we came for. Got it?] I say as I'm trying to hold myself back so I don't rip his throat out...I know it's not his fault but mine and I still want to hurt somebody even for my own mistake. s**t, this is going to be harder than I expected...

„Oh...beh, non ci avevo pensato... e poi, capo, solo un'altra cosa, se posso?“ [Ou…well, I didn't think of that… and also boss, just one more thing if I may?] He asks with concern.

„Vai avanti...“ [Go on...] I encourage him to continue with a light nod.

„Beh, vedi, dato che è un orfanotrofio femminile e per giunta cristiano, volevo solo prepararti al fatto che potrebbe non aver mai visto un uomo in vita sua... quindi questo è l'altro motivo per cui ti ho chiesto se Miriam potesse venire come addetta alla sicurezza di riserva, perché è possibile che la ragazza abbia molta paura di noi.“ [Well you see as it's an all-girls orphanage and Christian on top of it, I just want to prepare you for the fact that she might never see a man in her life... so that's the other reason I asked you if Miriam could come as back-up security, because it's possible the girl will be very frightened of us.] He almost shyly says and I just nod cause I don't know what to say. This is so messed up old man...why couldn't you put her in some regular orphanage and do all this s**t so even tho I or Marcus or I would find her, she will never trust us or find any way or a reason in our life and world. Smart move old man, very smart... but I'm Xander La Cenacio and I never, ever give up. Will I be able to play nice and gain her trust? I don't really f.ucking know, but I will try my best to do so.

We’re ghosts today.

Ghosts with perfect smiles and dead-steady hands.

I won’t touch her. Not today. Today she’s just a name on paper, a quiet miracle who has no idea she’s already survived hell twice. Once in that motel…where her mother and Nina died with her blood on their hands. And once here… in this holy cage that taught her to shrink herself so the world wouldn’t notice her shine. Not for long. She’ll walk out with me as a free young woman before Marcus even figures out which direction the wind is blowing.

•

Emiliano steps forward. He looks calm, but there’s lightning behind his eyes.

„Mr Black?” He asks, voice smooth, calculated, already rehearsing the part I’ve assigned him. I cut him a sidelong glance. C.ocky little bastard. Always enjoying moments he shouldn’t.

„Yeah…” I answer adopting Marcus’s clipped tone, his brand of arrogance, his stupid American cadence.

„Let’s go get my… daughter.”