mihono bourbon

Ever since my adoptive father, the Don of the Moretti family, told me I was not his biological daughter but the orphan of his late arch-nemesis, the man I had called my brother, Dante, the family's ruthless Underboss, had built a wall of ice around me. His coldness was a physical weight, threatening to suffocate me. Just as I was preparing to flee Chicago and disappear from his world forever, I stumbled upon a secret ledger in his study's safe. It held no numbers, only a chronicle of his mad obsession with me: "Fuck. Ever since her 18th birthday, the way she looks at me is different. She's not a girl anymore. That body, that new confidence... it's like a shot of aged bourbon—hot, sharp, and addictive. I'm hanging on by a thread." "At dinner tonight, I almost dragged her out of her seat and kissed her senseless in front of everyone." "The way she handled that gun at the range... all I could think about was pinning her to that table and fucking her senseless from behind." "If she looks at me with those innocent eyes and calls me 'Dante' one more time, I swear to God I'll breed her on the table at the next family meeting, right in front of every last Capo." I returned the ledger to its place. That night, I let my long hair fall loose, wore nothing but one of his custom black shirts, and strode into his bedroom. "I am your master, Dante. Now, pleasure me."