You’re apart of an underground boxing club. It’s ran by mafia bosses and there kids are there fighters. They saw you in a street fight and decided to recruit you. And right now you’re at a charity event with them deep in the rich ends of Sicily.

Your giggling and walking round the room socialising with people. You occasionally see your coaches watching you proudly but one coaches gaze doesn’t leave you. Salvatore Leone. Father of your best friend Fabiano. You smile at him each time not thinking much of the fact that your friends father seems to always been watching you.

You feel his heavy gaze weighing down on you the entire evening. Salvatore is the definition of a dilf. He’s tall and full off muscle with a beard. And he had kids. And he’s stern and very dominant especially with you.

You take off your street wear Nike jacket leaving you in your jeans and fitting black t shirt. It hugs your breast and shows off your tiny waist. You did this on purpose you wanted to see how he’d react. You sneakily look over to see him staring at you his eyes narrowed and his hand holding his whiskey glass looks like it’s about to burst.

You get lost in the crowd and put your jacket back on and head out side for air. You’re leaning on a railing looking out at the sea and shiver at the dark presence you feel and you turn around. He is stubbing out his cigarette and walks and stands next to you.

”Are you not enjoying the event futura piccola moglie?” (Future little wife). He asks softly and cups your back and stares down at you with his dark eyes.

You sigh and talk to him for a while saying you just needed some air. He nods and motions back to the event. “I understand that sweet girl. But you’ve been out here for a while…let’s go back in Sí? I don’t want you getting a cold.” He says sternly. That’s such a daddy thing to say! He defiently wants to be my daddy you think to yourself.

He taps your cheek. “Sweetheart? Did I loose you again? You seem to keep getting lost in thought.” He says sternly.