The Mob Boss

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and in this universe men can give birth. Thank you for reading. ❤️

Five years Later:

Axel set the last batch of cookies on the cooling rack, wiping the beads of sweat from his brow.

“Finally done for the day,” he muttered, glancing at the wall clock. “I should get going before it starts raining.”

He took off his apron and hung it on its hook just as the door to the bakery chimed and a man in a suit and dark sunglasses strode in. Axel immediately caught the scent—beta—but the man’s size seemed quite large for his rank. Axel assumed he was a bodyguard of some sort.

“I want a box of donuts.” the man ordered, his tone firm and baritone.

Axel dried his freshly washed hands on a kitchen towel. “Sorry, the register’s closed. I’m done for the day.”

The man’s expression tightened, his jaw clenching slightly. If not for the dark sunglasses, Axel imagined he’d be at the receiving end of an intense glare.

“Make an exception,” the man demanded. “It’s urgent.”

Axel crossed his arms, nodding toward the poster on the door. “It says on the poster, closing time is by five. It’s six-thirty.”

“But you’re still here,” the man countered.

“Instead of arguing, you could just sell me a box of donuts.”

“And why should I?”

The man’s patience seemed to thin. “Look, my boss is in a bad mood. He needs those donuts, and if I go back empty-handed, it won’t end well. Trust me, you don’t want to deal with him right now.”

A sharp, cold voice cut through the air before Axel could respond.

“What’s the hold-up, Xavier?”

Axel’s eyes shifted to the doorway, where another man stood—tall, strikingly handsome, with a tousled blonde hair that caught the fading sunlight. His green eyes glimmered with annoyance, and a hint of a scowl tugged at his face.

“Apologies, boss,” Xavier replied quickly. “I’m just trying to convince the baker to sell us a box of donuts.”

The man’s gaze flicked to Axel, assessing him. “And why is that a problem?”

Xavier hesitated. “He says they’re closed.”

“Is that a reason why you won’t sell?” The man asked Axel, arching a brow at him.

“Yes,” Axel replied evenly.

The man held his gaze for a moment before nodding to Xavier, motioning for them to leave. Just as they turned, the door swung open, and a little girl bounded in, her blonde pigtails bouncing. Axel stared at the resemblance between her and the man.

“Daddy, Daddy! Did you get them yet?” she chirped, her eyes bright with excitement.

In an instant, the man’s scowl softened as he scooped her up. “Lily, I told you to stay in the car,” he scolded gently.

“But I wanted to pick the colors and sprinkles Delia liked!” she pouted, her eyes glimmering.

Axel sighed in defeat and then leaned over the counter, he couldn’t turn a little girl down. Smiling softly, he asked, “What colors would you like, princess?”

Lily’s face lit up, and soon, Axel was packing a box of brightly decorated donuts.

After he had packaged the donuts he handed them to the man who gave him a nod of thanks and left.

Before following, Xavier placed a thick wad of cash on the counter. “You’re lucky you sold him the donuts,” he murmured. “If you hadn’t, you wouldn’t have a bakery tomorrow.”

—

Two weeks later, just fifteen minutes before closing, the bakery door chimed open. Axel looked up from wiping down the counter and froze. It was the man from before but this time he’d come alone and he seemed in a better mood than the last, staring at Axel with curiosity.

“Good evening. How can I help you?” Axel greeted, keeping his tone neutral.

The man studied him for a moment. “You look familiar. Have we met before?”

Axel’s expression remained impassive. “I sold you donuts a couple of weeks ago. You were here with your daughter.”

“Right,” the man nodded slowly. “Do you know who I am?”

Of course, Axel knew him from the moment he’d first stepped into his bakery, he’d never forget a face—more or less the same one that pounded him mercilessly five years ago. They’d never exchanged names but Axel found out he was the leader of a pack of mafia wolves, not only had he slept with an Alpha he’d slept with a Mafia boss.

But Axel didn’t share any of that. He kept his expression blank and said simply, “You’re in the headlines often enough. Levi Moretti, right?”

Levi's eyes narrowed thoughtfully as he sucked his tongue between his teeth before he said. “I see. Well, I’ll take a box of donuts and some of those chocolate chip cookies. My daughter and her friend loved them last time.”

“Glad to hear it.” Axel focused on preparing his order, trying to remember the colors and sprinkles the little girl had chosen the last time.

Levi’s gaze lingered on him, a bit too intent. “So, what’s your name?”

Axel’s grip on the tongs tightened slightly. “I don’t see why that matters.”

Levi’s brow arched, a hint of a smirk playing at his lips. “Oh, come on. You know my name—it seems fair I should know yours.”

Axel ignored him, focusing on the donut frosting while Levi’s gaze drifted to a pile of receipts, notebooks, and loose papers on the counter. Before Axel could react, he reached over and flipped through them.

“Hey—” Axel protested.

Levi’s eyes caught on a postcard addressed to Finn. “Who’s Finn?”

Axel’s heart thudded as he quickly snatched the postcard tucking it away in his apron, his expression taut. “That’s none of your business.”

Levi’s eyes widened slightly at the reaction, but a teasing smirk followed. “What was that about?”

Axel cleared his throat, looking away from him, he muttered, “Nothing.”

Levi’s attention fell on a business card resting nearby. He picked it up, reading it aloud. “Axel Ammen.” He glanced up, amusement glimmering in his eyes. “That’s the name you were hiding?”

Axel’s jaw tightened, a hint of frustration breaking through. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t go through my things.”

“Relax,” Levi chuckled, handing the card back. “It’s just a business card.” His smirk softened. “You know, Axel isn’t that unique of a name. Why hide it?”

Axel’s eyes met Levi’s for a brief moment before he pulled away, closing the box of donuts. “You don’t have to pay since you overpaid last time.”

Levi’s smirk lingered, but he took out his wallet, placing a wad of cash on the counter.

“Didn’t you just hear me I said—” Axel began to protest but Levi cut him off.

“I don’t accept free stuff, plus the extra money was your compensation for barging in after closing hours.” As he took the box, he shot Axel one last look before turning and leaving the bakery. “See you next time, Axel Amman.”

Axel’s pulse gradually settled as the door chimed shut behind him.