Page 6 of Her Dream Mafia Daddy

He was in charge of the safety of everyone there. If anyone broke his edicts, they would feel his belt or paddle on their bare bottoms before he handed them over to their caregiver. At everyone’s nods, he dismissed them and went to see about dinner.

Freya was his head housekeeper. She had been with his family for as long as he could remember, likely before he was even born. He kept trying to get her to retire, but she insisted she loved taking care of him and would do so until she couldn’t. He made sure the white-haired, vivacious woman was well taken care of and didn’t have to do much. She kept a tight ship and anyone on her staff who disobeyed felt her mean wooden spoon. He smiled at the thought of bringing his own girl into the house and her coming toe to toe with Freya. Nothing would save her from a sound spanking, and then she would earn another trip over his knee.

In Winter Peak, they all looked after each other. That meant everyone could discipline all the Littles and submissives if the need was there. It took a village, and they all looked out for one another. It had worked well for decades, and he’d be damned if he allowed anyone to disrupt that.

Freya cleared her throat. “Rough day, E?” Her eyebrow rose at his glare.

“You’re lucky I like you, Freya. No one calls me E.” He sat at the island of the kitchen as she handed him a lowball of whiskey neat. He took a sip, the smooth amber liquid burning as it traveled down his throat. “But yes, rough day. There are rumors of a human trafficking ring coming to Whitescar and it has me…on edge.” He took another sip, letting the comforting liquid calm his frayed nerves.

“Well, for fuck’s sake. Who is dumb enough to bring that shit here?” she practically growled, her eyes turning dark.

“Freya!” He chuckled as his eyes grew wide.

She chuckled and lightly smacked his arm. “Oh calm down, Eamon. I just don’t know anyone dumb enough to try that within your reach. You’ve made your stance on that pretty clear over the years.”

“I know. But we all know Callum isn’t the brightest crayon.” He glowered in disgust at just mentioning that asshole’s name. “He needs to be taken care of. Permanently.”

“I don’t disagree. But I would be remiss if I didn’t remind you to keep your head level. Don’t go in there without all the facts.”

She was the mother he had never had. His own mother died in a car accident when he was just a baby and Freya raised him. She may not have birthed him, but she was the most important woman in his life. When his father was a dick, Freya was there to guide and build him up. He would forever be in her debt.

“I won’t, Freya, I promise.” He smiled at her, hoping to ease the fear written on her face.

“I know you won’t, my smart boy.” She gave him a hug and stepped back, “Now then, what would you like for dinner?”

“Honestly? It’s been a tough day and I need some comfort food.” Giving her his award winning smile.

“Say no more. You know I always keep beef stew in the freezer for when you need that comfort.”

“Thanks, Freya. I don’t know what I would do without you.” He kissed her on the cheek.

“Probably get lost and turn all your white shirts pink or something.” She smirked as he laughed and shook his head. He swore she was a brat.

Grabbing his bowl of stew, he went to his den, plopped on the couch and put his feet up. Turning on the TV, he put it on a random show while he scrolled his phone and ate. He caught up on his text messages and emails, making sure that everything in his town was running smoothly. Before too long, Finnean, Rory, and Kellan joined him. They each had a glass of whiskey and sat down, everyone looking deep in thought.

These were his brothers in every sense of the word. While Finnean was his only blood brother living with him, Rory and Kellan might as well have been since they were his best friends since they were toddlers. When his mom died with her best friends in a car accident when he was just a baby, his father brought them all to America to start over. All of their fathers died years ago, leaving them in charge. They would always have each other’s backs.

He turned to Finnean. “Whatcha thinking?”

“I don’t know, boss. Something is up. I get the feeling that something is changing, but I can’t figure it out.”

His eyebrows drew together as he tapped his glass, taking a drink. “What do you boys think?”

“Fuck if I know.” Rory sighed.

“Well, we need to figure it the fuck out. I will put in a call to Theo and see if he knows anything.” Theo was his twin who lived in Atlanta and had connections that could help them.

Chapter 4

Daphne

“Girls! Breakfast. You have five minutes to get your butts down here before those butts become hot and sore,” Uncle Liam yelled up the stairs at them. Daphne was in her ensuite bathroom, just staring at herself in the mirror, mindlessly brushing her hair. She was unsure how she even ended up here in this town and in this family, but she wasn’t going to question it. She had a roof over her head, a friend who was genuine, and an uncle who took such great care of her. She heard her best friend squeak and run down the stairs, grimacing at the telltale sounds of palm meeting flesh and even louder shouts. Running in the house was definitely against the rules and would end you in hot water every time.

Over the last few weeks she had been there, she frequently got scared and overwhelmed at the possibility of them kicking her out of the house. They were married and were gracious enough to let her live there where she felt safe. Her ex-husband had really done a number on her. The bruises and broken bones had long faded, but the emotional scars never would, she feared. She wasn’t sure how to heal from all of her trauma, the hits that never seemed to stop. She could never seem to do anything right. She was always in the way, always making mistakes and making him angry. She wasn’t sure how long she had been standing there, but she was startled when she heard a deep voice from behind her.

“Was there something about my instructions you didn’t understand, Daphne Erin?” He crossed his muscular arms over his chest, a move that made her belly do flips. His sleeves were already rolled up to his elbows, revealing his tattooed forearms and hands that were hard as paddles.

“No, Sir. I’m sorry, Uncle Liam.” Tears were already in her eyes, her throat burned.