Page 10 of My Fake Mafia Daddy

"Constantine." After setting my glass down, I turn to face Constantine. "I'm not a gold digger. I've never been the type of boy to throw myself at a man because of his money."

Constantine furrows his brow. "I never said you were."

I hold out my index finger. "Please let me finish."

Constantine slides into the seat next to me. "I'm listening."

I blow out a breath and stare at my feet. "I think you can tell I struggle with money. But I don't want to come on to a man because he's rich. That's all too much like a cheap arrangement where two parties trade passion for cash."

Constantine threads his fingers through mine. "Listen to me, boy. I never accused you of being a gold digger. That's not what I thought at all."

Tears well in my eyes. "If I spend the night with you, please don't expect a sex worker arrangement. I'm tired from my accident in the playroom, and I want to cuddle and fall asleep. If you have a bottle or binky, I'd love that, too. But not money. My heart would break if you tried to pay me in the morning."

Constantine takes one look at me and chuckles. "You have a way with words. But you must let me speak."

I tilt my head up. "Okay."

Where's Constantine going with this?

Constantine presses his thumb into my chin, and stares into my eyes. "I didn't bring you here to spend the night, boy. My heart swelled when I saw you in the playroom. I wanted you to move in for the next thirty days to see if we were compatible. There's also a…fake relationshipI want to discuss tomorrow. My brothers don't believe I'm over my ex, and you can help me prove them wrong. My butler and maids will take care of your every need. After the thirty days are over, we can decide if we want to be Daddy and boy."

I bring my fingers to my ears and stick them inside. I search to see if cotton's blocking them, because nothing, and I mean nothing, makes me think I heard this man right.

Constantine… wants me to move in with him for amonth? He wants to give our budding relationship a trial run to see if we're compatible? And he wants me to be his fake boyfriend?

More tears well in my eyes. "I don't need your charity." My cheeks turn into floodplains as I turn away from Constantine and bury myself in Mr. Green. "I've been on my own for a long time. I can take care of myself."

Constantine smirks. "Charity?" He forces me to look at him. "This isn't charity, boy."

I sniffle and stare into his eyes. "What do you mean?"

This sounds like charity. I might be broke, but I'll be damned if I turn into a pity object.

Constantine hands me my glass of sparkling water. "There are tasks I need you to perform. I'm entertaining business partners this month and I need you to be the pretty boy who serves hors d'oeuvres and drinks. You might even help with housecleaning and travel to the Hamptons. You'll earn your keep."

It takes a moment to process this. Okay, so Constantine doesn't only want me to be his live-in pathetic boy toy. This isn't prostitution. He wants me to work for him, serve him in his business meetings, and pull my weight.

I stare into his eyes. Not once did I expect an arrangement like this to fall in my lap, but it's happening. I'm excited to live with Constantine for the next thirty days, and see where this goes.

"Okay." I extend my hand and shake Constantine's firmly. "I'll do it."

Constantine lets out a growl. "You have a long night ahead of you, boy. I'll get blankets and snacks."

I blink. "Why, Daddy?"

I have an idea why. Warmth builds in my insides, turning me into a bar of chocolate.

Constantine smiles. "I promised a snuggle session. Let me grab snacks so we can cozy up to each other and watch an animated movie."

I run my fingers through my hair as I blush. Yeah, this is exactly what I pictured when I dreamt about a Daddy. Constantine gets me.

But as Constantine stands up from the couch and makes a bag of popcorn over the stove—the kind that swells up in a big aluminum ball, my favorite—I realize I can't let down my guard.

Constantine's patient and sweet, but every man I've ever known runs when I tell them about my condition.

I'll cuddle with this man and snuggle all night.

But I'll be damned to hell if I allow myself to develop feelings.

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