My birthday present.

POP MY CHERRY DADDY

Chapter 76

Waking up in Ignazio’s arms had become Isabella’s favorite part of her life. Each moment spent this way felt like a quiet promise, one she cherished deeply.

It wasn’t just comforting—it was fulfilling, grounding her in a world that often felt unsteady. She looked forward to the day when it would be official, the day she could legally call this man her own and wake up in his arms forever. That dream seemed as important to Ignazio as it was to her, and that thought alone made her heart swell.

“Good morning, Princess,” Ignazio’s deep voice murmured into her ear, breaking the serene silence of the room. The warmth in his tone sent a shiver of happiness through her.

Isabella tilted her head slightly, catching a glimpse of his face, the face she had grown to love beyond reason.

“Good morning,” she mumbled softly, her voice carrying a quiet giggle. She tucked her face back against his bare chest, a blush spreading across her cheeks as she felt his heartbeat steady and sure beneath her ear.

Ignazio smiled, his lips curving with a tenderness he reserved only for her. Pulling her closer, he adjusted her snugly against him, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on her arm. Then he leaned down, his lips brushing against her forehead with the lightest of kisses, a touch that felt like both a declaration and a vow.

“How do you feel? How was yesterday?” His voice was quiet, almost hesitant, as though he feared the answer.

Isabella’s cheeks flushed deeper, and she couldn’t stop the shy smile that crept across her face. She lifted her left hand, letting the soft rays of sunlight streaming in through the window catch on her ring. The tiny diamonds glinted like stars, their glow reflecting the warmth she felt inside.

“Yesterday…” she whispered, her voice barely audible, “was the best day of my life.”

Her eyes grew misty as she thought about how close she had been to giving up because of his hungry ex-wife. But Ignazio had come back to her, proving his love in ways she hadn’t dared to dream. Now, she was here, back in his arms, basking in the safety and affection she had craved her entire life. No one—not even her aunt, who had given her everything—had ever loved her like this.

Isabella exhaled softly, her gaze shifting to Ignazio’s face. His eyes met hers, warm and steady, and for a moment, she forgot the world outside.

“I’m excited,” she said, her voice filled with quiet joy. Her gaze flickered back to the ring before she rested her head once more on his chest.

Ignazio let out a slow breath, his fingers continuing their gentle dance along her arm. He held her close, but his thoughts strayed far ahead, envisioning the life they would build together. He imagined the laughter that would fill their home, the family they would create, and the happiness that would come from loving her every single day.

But beneath the joy lay a shadow, a burden he had carried for years. As he watched Isabella, whose biggest concerns were completing her exams, applying for a master's program, and planning their wedding, his chest tightened. She deserved peace, simplicity, and a love untainted by secrets—but he couldn’t give her that, not completely.

The truth weighed heavily on him. Her mother had been his first love, the woman he thought he could never heal from until Isabella came into his life. She had brought light back into his world, but the past lingered like a ghost. How would she feel if she ever found out? Could he keep it hidden forever, or would his silence eventually tear them apart?

His heart ached as he pressed another kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering there a moment longer. He loved her with everything he had, but that love came with guilt—guilt for the things he couldn’t bring himself to confess and for the parts of his life he knew she would never approve of. Every day, those thoughts clawed at him, but in moments like this, when she looked up at him with absolute trust, he wondered if he could live with the weight of his secrets— the weight of loving her mother first and the weight of being partly a mafia lord.

For now, he held her closer, savoring the warmth of her body against his. Whatever the future held, this moment was theirs, and he vowed silently to protect her happiness, no matter what it cost him.

***

“Sit there princess. I will cook and you will watch me cool.”

The kitchen was vast, its sleek, modern design softened by the golden morning light streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

The aroma of sizzling garlic and fresh herbs filled the air as Ignazio moved with practiced ease, barefoot on the polished tiles. He wore nothing but a pair of dark shorts slung low on his waist, revealing a well-toned body marked with a beautiful tattoo.

Isabella wandered around the kitchen, a playful contrast to his focus. She wore one of his oversized white polos, the fabric brushing against her thighs as she padded softly across the space, her bare legs catching the morning light. The sight of her, so at ease, made Ignazio glance over his shoulder with a smile that reached his dark eyes.

“You’re going to distract me, Princess,” he said, his deep voice carrying an affectionate warning. Seeing her in his oversized polo was doing a lot to him than he could even talk about.

Isabella giggled, leaning against the cool marble counter, her arms crossing as she watched him. “Distract you? You’re the one cooking shirtless, Ignazio. I think you’re the distraction here.”

He chuckled, the sound low and warm, as he flipped something in the pan with a deft hand. “I can’t help it. Cooking gets hot but seeing you this way.” His eyes lingered around her body. “Gosh! It gets hotter.”

Isabella rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her smile. Ignazio was formidable, a man who commanded both respect and fear in his world. Yet here, in the privacy of their home, he was just hers. The sight of him in this domestic moment—barefoot, carefree, cooking for her—made her heart swell.

“What are you making?” she asked, pushing herself off the counter to step closer.

He glanced at her with a teasing smirk. “You’ll see. But I promise, it’s worthy of a queen.”

“Am I your queen, then?” she teased, standing beside him now, her head tilted to look up at his face.

He paused, turning to face her fully. The teasing smirk softened into something deeper, something that made her cheeks warm. “You’ve always been my queen, Isa. Even before you said yes.”

Her breath caught, and she reached out instinctively, resting her hand against his chest. The steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath her palm grounded her, even as his words made her feel like she was floating.

He leaned down, brushing a kiss against her forehead before pulling back to look into her eyes. “When we’re married, I’ll cook for you like this every weekend. Just the two of us. I’ll make you breakfast in the mornings and dinner at night. And one day, when we have little ones running around, I’ll teach them too.”

Isabella’s lips parted, her heart thudding loudly at the picture he painted. “Little ones?” she echoed, a shy smile tugging at her lips.

“Hmm.” He nodded, returning to his cooking, though his words still held a playful edge. “A house full of them. Boys and girls. Enough to keep you busy while I keep this family safe.”

Her heart tightened at the mention of his work, she didn't want a moment away from him. “And you’ll still have time to cook for me?” she teased, moving to the other side of the counter and resting her elbows on it as she watched him.

“For you? Always,” he promised, glancing at her with that smoldering gaze that never failed to make her weak. “You’re my calm, Bel. When the world gets too loud, too dark, you’re the one thing that keeps me steady.”

Her throat tightened with emotion. Ignazio is a man of power feared by many, but his love for her is so tender and satisfying. Isabella smiled, her eyes bright. “Well, I hope your little ones inherit your cooking skills. Otherwise, they’ll be eating burnt toast if they rely on me.”

He laughed, a deep, genuine sound that echoed warmly through the kitchen. “I’ll make sure they don’t, Princess. You just keep being you, and I’ll take care of the rest.”

The timer beeped, and Ignazio turned to plate the food, presenting her with a dish that looked like it belonged in a fine dining restaurant. He placed it in front of her with a flourish, pulling out a chair for her to sit.

“Breakfast is served,” he said, his tone light but his gaze heavy with affection.

Isabella took a bite, closing her eyes as the flavors danced on her tongue. “Mmm. Okay, you win. You’re definitely the better cook.”

He grinned, leaning down to kiss her cheek. “I’m glad you think so. Now finish up—we’ve got a long day of dreaming about our future while I fuck your sweet creamy pussy.”

Isabella gasped. Staring at him it was her first time hearing him speak to dirty.

Ignazio smiled leaning against the counter.

“Don't just stare at me, ma'am. Eat. Or do you need my cock to help open your sealed mouth?

“I will be more than delighted to have your cock and have your food afterward.”

“At your service, ma'am. Now eat and come take Daddy’s cock.”

As she laughed softly and dug into her breakfast, Ignazio stood back, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed. He watched her with quiet reverence, his heart full. At this moment, with her in his shirt, laughing in his kitchen, everything felt perfect.

For a man who lived in a storm of chaos, Isabella was the calm he’d always yearned for. And he would do anything to keep her there, forever!