AUTHOR: T. A. BEAU

TITLE: Raped and Broken for Disrespecting my Mafia Dad

SUBTITLE: A NONCON Dad/Daughter Incest Erotica Short Story with fisting anal, double penetration, virgin and torture.

Copyright © 2024 T. A. BEAU

All rights reserved.

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the writer and the publisher.

WORD COUNT: 4500 words

I'm standing with my father in the middle of our huge, extravagant ballroom, built solely for parties like these, welcoming guests as they trickle in. I’m wearing a custom ruby dress that hugs my curves perfectly, a diamond necklace glinting on my slender neck, a ruby red fur coat draped over my shoulders, and black Louboutins, all courtesy of my father, Marcello. My brown curls are in a tight bun, with a few strands falling delicately around my face.

My father is dressed in custom Armani, his feet clad in black Dolce and Gabbana crocodile skin shoes. His chocolate brown hair is slicked back, and his sides show wisps of gray that betray his age. His dark beard is well-groomed, and his eyes dart around, observant.

Our guests are dressed extravagantly, too, their designer outfits and expensive jewelry glittering under the lights like stars. We both plaster smiles on our faces, mingling among them, but there’s an unspoken rule in the Mafia: be cordial, but don’t trust anyone. It’s a dog-eat-dog world, and each of them would betray one another without a second thought.

“How are you holding up, princess?” Dad leans in to whisper, his eyes softening.

“Wonderfully,” I reply, his lips twitching up in amusement.

He senses my nervousness and looks puzzled. He always hosts parties like this every month, and while I’m not a huge fan, my disinterest is usually just that-disinterest, not anxiety.

“Are you sure you're okay? You can always take a break from these pretentious people, you know,” he presses.

His words make me crack my first smile of the evening. “The pot calling the kettle black,” I tease. “But thank you, Father. I’m all right, just tired, that’s all.” His eyes narrow, searching my face. He doesn’t believe me, but he drops it for my sake.

“If you say so.”

We spend about thirty minutes forcing fake smiles and greetings until I can’t take it anymore. “I’ll be right back. I need some fresh air.” His eyes flash with concern, but he gives a firm nod and lets me slip through the crowd.

I make my way to the balcony on the third floor, where I know I can get some quiet, and I sigh, pressing my back against the wall. Nate has been blowing up my phone all night, and I’m surprised my father hasn’t heard the buzzing.

Or maybe he does but chooses not to say anything.

Nate is my boyfriend, whom I’ve kept a secret for a long time. I met him at culinary school, where my father pulled strings for me to enter. I was smitten almost instantly-his witty charm, his looks, his sense of humor-everything about him was just my type.

But I’m acutely aware of my status and know my father would have both our heads on a platter if he ever found out about us, so we keep things under wraps.

Unfortunately, I miscalculated Nate’s ambitions and how driven he is. While I think of him as a good boyfriend, I don’t envision a future with him. Life in the Mafia doesn’t allow for hopeless dreams, so I can only savor the present.

Nate, on the other hand, dreams of us getting married, having kids, and having a whole future. He believes he can, somehow, convince my father to accept our union, which I find ridiculous.

He’s been bugging me to introduce him to my father, and while I’m looking for the right opportunity, I’m terrified. It’s a suicide mission for both of us, and Nate doesn’t understand that, which frustrates and pressures me. I worry that my father’s response might change everything, potentially ruining the relationship I have with him, which would crush me.

As a woman loved by a ruthless Mafia leader, I have my reservations. Born into a Mafia family, I experience both danger and luxury simultaneously. My life is unusual yet envied-especially my close relationship with my father. Usually, Mafia fathers barely have time for their families, but we, the Carusos, are different. My father dotes on me, keeps me close, and always shows me off with pride that makes me beam.

But I know all good things come to an end eventually. I shouldn’t take advantage of a Mafia Don’s kindness because one mistake could ruin my life and remind me how ruthless my father can be if pushed too far. I close my eyes, fingers clenching around my phone tightly.

“You can do this, Laura,” I whisper to myself, opening my phone to call Nate.

“Laura!”

“Ah!” I yelp, jumping as I turn to see my father at the staircase with a man beside him. I swallow, trying to regain my composure.

“Father,” I squeak, walking toward them, my heels clicking against the marble floor.

He raises a brow but ignores my shaky disposition. “Yes, this is Antoni,” he says, gesturing to the handsome man on his right. I give him a good look and can’t deny he’s incredibly attractive. His raven-black hair falls in curls that frame his heart-shaped face, his tanned skin glowing, and the auburn in his eyes adds to his intensity.

“O-oh. Nice to meet you,” I say, stretching out my arm for a handshake.

Antoni fixes his gaze on me, never breaking eye contact. “The pleasure is all mine,” he replies, his voice deep and smooth as he leans in to kiss my hand, his eyes locked on mine. I can’t deny he’s attractive, but I know not to be fooled. My father introducing a man like this means he’s just another suitor vying for my hand in marriage. I’m certain they’re all from the Mafia because my father would never allow me to marry an outsider.

“Why don’t you get to know him?” my father suggests, a hint of a smile on his face. He tries to be subtle, but he can’t fool me. I fight the urge to roll my eyes, and just as I’m about to decline, we hear a commotion downstairs.

All three of us frown and head back to the stairs without hesitation. Hovering over the stairwell, I see people looking at each other in confusion, murmuring among themselves.

Then I hear a voice that makes my heart sink.

“Laura~” Nate exclaims in a sing-song voice, stumbling into the ballroom, clearly drunk. My feet freeze as I process what’s happening.

It isn’t until my father starts walking down the stairs like an angry bull that my legs finally function again. I rush after Dad, desperate to stop him before he does something terrible to Nate or before Nate says something stupid that gets us both in trouble.

Stumbling in my heels, I try to hurry toward him, but it’s too late. Nate is already in the maw of a lion. Nate hiccups, blinking up at the huge man standing menacingly in front of him.

“Are you Marcello?” he slurs, pointing a finger at him.

The crowd around us falls silent, their full focus on the scene unfolding before them. “If you don’t want to lose any of your fingers or your life, I suggest you leave now, boy,” My father threatens, his face blank and devoid of emotion. “I’ll accept this as a drunken mistake. So leave while I’m being nice.”

“No, I want to speak to you,” Nate insists, sounding petulant. “It’s about Laura.”

This piques Dad’s interest, though he doesn’t show it. He maintains his stoic expression and allows my boyfriend to continue. Meanwhile, I spiral.

“Nate, no,” my voice shakes as I reach out, desperate for him to stop.

“Oh, there you are,” he coos, turning his attention to me. “No, I’m gonna talk to him. I promised you I would. And I’ve been calling you for ages, but you didn’t pick up any of my calls.”

A flash of recognition passes through Dad’s eyes. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about the relationship I have with your daughter.”

Gasps ripple through the room. Dad looks slightly taken aback, struggling to maintain his composure. My world tilts off its axis as Nate drops that bombshell. My knees nearly give out, and my stomach churns, fighting the urge to throw up on the pristine marble tiles.

“Excuse me?” my father snaps at Nate.

“You heard me,” Nate replies defiantly, surprising the guests with his boldness. “I’m tired of hiding it from the world like it’s one big secret. I love Laura, and we’re happily in love. If you care for your daughter, then maybe you should let her live for herself.”

I can only watch in horror as the situation spirals. The room is so silent I can hear a pin drop, and Nate’s voice rings loud, broadcasting our private lives.

“Is that so?” my father finally responds, his voice deceptively calm. “Come with me, boy. Let’s talk more about it in my office.”

Nate, the fool, nods and follows him like a loyal puppy. They walk past me, up the stairs, and I know I have to follow, terrified of what might happen when they are alone.

“Father, I-” I call out, my voice hurried and pleading, but he turns to face me, eyes dark and threatening, swirling with a vengeful promise.

I flinch, taking a step back in fear. I’ve seen that look too many times, but having it directed at me stings deep in my chest.

“We’re having a small talk between men. You’re not invited,” he says coldly, detaching my heart into splintering pieces.