Page 14 of Mafia Daddy

MAXIM

This isn’t going to be easy.

There’s something about him.

And it could be dangerous…

The soft click of Milo’s bedroom door echoes down the corridor like a starting pistol. I stand by the windows for another moment, watching rain trace silver paths down the glass, before turning toward the living area.

The classical music has faded to a low hum and I pour myself a tumbler of ice-cold vodka, none of that overpriced single-malt bullshit others drink, and take one measured sip.

The burn is sharp, clean. Then I tilt the glass and finish the rest in one swallow.

It has been a long night.

I set the empty tumbler on the low glass table and pick up my phone. A new message from Kobek waits on the encrypted app…

Kobek: Lentini crews have fully withdrawn from the eastern blocks. No reports of unrest on the streets. Quiet so far.

A good start. I type back quickly.

Maxim: Excellent. Stay vigilant. Not just Lentini. Watch the Irish and the Koreans too. This kind of power shift always brings out the opportunists. Double the rotations on the bridges tonight. Leave nothing to chance.

I hit send and open the second app. The one very few people know exists…

The feed from Milo’s room fills the screen. High-definition, crystal clear. He was smart to sweep the room earlier. Thorough, even…

But he missed the real prize: the razor-thin miniature camera embedded directly into the antique mirror above the dresser. Invisible to the naked eye unless you know exactly where to look and what frequency to scan.

Michael has his contacts in government, secret service, pretty much any agency you can think of. And that means we have access to the kind of tech that most others in our world could only ever dream of.

This access to official lines of power has served us well, although it’s also fair to say that it has come at a cost too over the years. But nothing I cannot live with, no matter how tough it has been to handle at the time.

Success comes at a cost, always.

I lean back into the leather sofa, one arm draped along the back, and watch the screen in all its 4K glory...

Milo stands in the center of the room, shoulders tense. He kicks off his sneakers with more force than necessary, then peels off the cropped leather jacket. The t-shirt beneath clings to his skin. He removes his t-shirt so that I can see his upper body in its glory. My grip tightens on the phone.

Damn.

He is exquisite. Small but strong pecs with dark nipples already tightened from the cool air. A narrow waist and strong but slender hips. Smooth olive skin that would mark beautifully under my hands.

My cock stirs, thickening against the confines of my trousers as he shimmies out of his tight jeans, revealing a tiny black lace thong that leaves almost nothing to the imagination. The curve of his ass is perfect… round, firm, made for discipline.

The boy likes panties.

I’ll make a note of that for later…

Milo pauses suddenly, glancing toward the mirror. For a heartbeat I think he might have sensed the camera. His dark eyes narrow, scanning the room once more. Then he shakes his head, mutters something I can’t hear, and reaches for fresh clothes. He pulls on a pair of soft, faded jeans and a simple white t-shirt that still manages to hug every tempting line of his body.

Milo moves toward the door, hand hovering near the knob.

The boy hesitates.

I can see the internal war playing across his face—defiance battling uncertainty. After a long second he turns away, climbs onto the bed, and curls up with that zebra stuffie clutched tight to his chest. He buries his face in its worn fur, shoulders rising and falling in a deep sigh.

He’s a Little.