Chapter 121: JOSHUA

Because there was no housekeeper here, Erick was assigned to be my assistant, the housekeeper, and Mellisa's nanny. Luckily, he was a jack of all trades. He could do anything when needed.

Last night, we got home around one o'clock. Erick took Melissa to her room and made sure she was sleeping soundly in her bed, while I went to the garage to take care of that bastard Jimmy. He was still under the influence of marijuana last night. But I was sure he'd be completely sober by morning.

Erick probably only slept two or three hours last night. But when I came down to the dining room at seven, he had already made coffee and was making breakfast for us.

Mellisa sat quietly in her chair, eating her favorite biscuits. I noticed her milk bottle was empty. The little girl was getting first-class service from Erick.

"Coffee, boss?"

"I'm thinking of making you Roberto's man. You're good with kitchen stuff."

“It’s part of being an orphan since childhood. I’m not as fortunate as you. You’re surrounded by servants at your service 24/7. I have to do everything myself. No one will put breakfast on the table if I don’t cook it myself.”

“Poor you. I don’t pity you at all.”

“I didn’t expect it at all.”

The coffee was decent. I had a feeling the pancakes and bacon would be delicious too. They smelled delicious. Or maybe I was just hungry. Last night’s ambush had drained me of all my energy. I barely had the strength to drag myself to bed. I immediately fell asleep soundly until morning.

“Daddy...”

“What’s wrong, baby?”

Mellisa reached her hand out toward me.

Erick and I exchanged a confused look. We were mobsters, not babysitters. I didn’t understand her body language.

“What does she want?”

“I don’t know. She’s your daughter. Why don’t you just ask her what she wants?”

Okay. She was my daughter. I should have known her better, not Erick.

“What’s wrong, baby?”

Mellisa suddenly jumped into my arms as I leaned toward her.

“Poopie. I want a poopie.”

“What’s a poopie?”

Erick turned to me and giggled softly.

“What’s wrong?”

“Take her to the toilet. She needs to poop. Hurry. Her face is red.”

“I can’t.”

“Daddy!” Mellisa whined loudly.

“I want a poopie.”

“Erick.”

“I want Daddy.”

Erick burst out laughing.

“She just wants you. Hurry and take Mellisa to the bathroom. Don’t forget to put her potty on before you put her on the toilet.”

“Damn you, Erick.”

I tried to curse as quietly as possible, but Mellisa still heard it.

“Damn you, Erick.”

“Lilly, that’s not good,” Erick scolded her. "Your daddy just said something dirty. Do you remember what your mom taught you if your dad says something dirty?"

Suddenly, Mellisa slapped my lips twice.

"Bad mouth."

Erick's howling laughter filled the kitchen. He laughed so hard his eyes watered.

I growled at Mellisa, who was also staring at me with a fierce expression.

"Don't say that again, Daddy."

"You hit me on the lip."

I clenched my jaw in anger. I couldn't possibly hit her because she was my daughter.

I exhaled sharply, trying to control the anger bubbling in my head.

"Daddy, poopie."

"Josh, hurry up and take her to the bathroom."

"Shut up. I know what to do."

I dashed to her room and did everything Erick said before setting Mellisa down on the potty.

I didn't know what to do next. Mellisa told me to wait outside and closed the door. I should be grateful that Fiona had taught her toilet training.

"Daddy!"

"Right here, baby."

"Done."

Where is that bastard? I don’t know what to do.

"DADDY!"

"Wait a minute, baby."

"DADDY!"

She screamed louder and more demandingly. Mellisa sounded like she was about to cry, and there was no way I was going to leave her alone in the bathroom to call Erick.

Okay. This is what Fiona wants from me. She wants me to know how hard it is to raise a child. I have to use my dick wisely.

“Daddy...”

“Okay, okay. I'll clean you.”

I've never done this in my forty-two years of life. It shouldn't be difficult, since my mother taught me how to clean myself after using the toilet when I was four. But it wasn't that easy when I was with Mellisa. The front of my shirt was soaked with water from the tap as I tried to clean Mellisa the right way. I didn't know if it was right or wrong, as long as I managed the toilet problem.

“Daddy, my clothes are wet.”

“We're going to change your clothes. Do you want to pick out your own clothes?”

“Umm... The clothes are in the wash.”

Erick leaned against the doorframe.

“Where are the rest of her clothes?”

“Mellisa only has a few clothes. Fiona didn’t have time to pack much to take to NYC because she was in a hurry. I forgot to wash them yesterday. Those wet clothes are her last.”

“We need to go shopping for clothes for Mellisa, then.”

“But she doesn’t have anything to wear right now.”

I growled.

“Why are you only telling me now?”

“Because you never asked,” Erick shrugged nonchalantly.

“I’ll wrap her in my shirt. It’s only temporary.”

My shirt looked too big for her petite frame. She looked like she was wearing a long dress that hung to the floor. Her tiny arms were drowning in the sleeves of my shirt. She reminded me of her mother on our first night.

“Let’s go. Mellisa could get sick if she’s exposed to the cold for too long.”

“What about your captive?”

“He’ll stay in the garage. I’ve tied him up tightly. He won’t be able to escape.”

“Okay, if you’re sure he won’t run away, I believe you. We’re leaving now.”

It turned out that buying clothes for a three-year-old girl wasn't as easy as I'd imagined. There were so many choices and colors that it was overwhelming. Choosing clothes for a little girl was almost as daunting as choosing a dress for a grown woman. Mellisa was so enthusiastic, running around the aisles full of children's clothes.

This was my first time shopping for clothes with my baby girl. The place was mostly filled with young mothers. Erick and I looked like we were out of place. We stood out so much here. Especially with me carrying Mellisa and her wearing only my oversized shirt. The saleswoman even thought we were a gay couple with a little girl.

"How about this? This dress is perfect for Mellisa."

"I don't care about the style or color. Just buy whatever you think looks good on Mellisa."

“Finally, I can see colors other than black. Your clothes are making my eyes hurt.”

“You have no right to comment on my style.”

“Daddy, I want that pink dress?”

“Let’s go see.”

I asked the woman to take the dress off the mannequin, but unfortunately, it was too big for Mellisa. The woman said it was the only one left and they didn’t have any more in Mellisa’s size.

“Baby, let’s buy another dress, okay? Look, Uncle Rick has lots of beautiful dress for you.”

“But I want that pink dress. I don’t want any of the others.”

She was as stubborn as her mother. I had to do something to soften her stubbornness.

“Baby, let’s try on the clothes Uncle Rick brought.”

“No. I only want the pink dress.”

Erick burst out laughing watching me struggle to soften the princess’s stubbornness.

"I'll buy you your favorite ice cream if you try on the clothes."

Her eyes sparkled with delight. I finally convinced her to try them on.

All the clothes Erick had picked out for Mellisa looked so beautiful. I couldn't choose between them and decided to buy them all.

After Erick finished paying, I grabbed one of the dresses from the top of the pile and took it to the bathroom with Mellisa. It was time for my little girl to wear proper clothes instead of her father's oversized shirts.

But strangely, Mellisa liked wearing my shirts. It took some coaxing to get her to change into the violet dress with the belt and embossed floral accents on the chest.

"Perfect. You look as beautiful as your mother."

"I miss Mommy."

"Yeah, she misses you too. She called you last night, while you were sleeping."

"Can I call Mommy now?"

"I'm not sure. She's very busy."

"Why is Mommy always gone for so long at work?"

Mellisa stared at me with her round, innocent eyes as I sat her on the sink. She looked like a living doll from a toy store window. Her eyes blinked twice as she looked at me. I couldn't resist squeezing her cheeks and kissing the tip of her nose.

"Because she's a hero. She catches the bad guys."

“What about you? Do you also catch bad guys like Mommy?”

“Yes.”

I captured bad guys to torture and kill.

I think Fiona and I had a bit in common in our work. Well, not entirely. I tended to be either the hero or the villain, while Fiona was a pure hero.