Filed to story: Falling for My Ex's Mafia Dad Novel Free PDF (Fay Alden & Kent Lippert)
My father is shooting out of his chair, Tristin going pale across the room and gathering Romulus close to her side. My father strides towards me, his face livid with rage, a shade of red I haven’t seen before on a human face. I back away quickly, bumping hard into the doorway as I go but eager to get away from this rhino charging right for me.
“You will fall in line!” he commands, grabbing for my arm. “You are my daughter you will do as I demand ”
“I will not!” I shout, ripping my arm from his grasp and angry enough to find my feet and face him as we stumble out into the hall. “You have no right to make demands on who I marry let alone belittle me by calling me a slut when I’ve done nothing to ”
He silences me, then, with a sharp slap across my face.
I gasp, stumbling back, my hand instantly going to my smarting cheek.
I look back up at my father, aghast. My real dad has never ever in my life hit me. The rage it engenders surprises me as I clench my teeth and growl, fighting the desire to claw his damn eyes out.
But, instead, I remember precisely who I am, and I stand straight, dropping my hand and giving him a withering glare.
“Kent will have something to say about that,” I say softly, looking him straight in the eyes. “And so, I think, will Ivan.”
Then, my eyes shift to Romulus. “If you ever need to get out of here, kid?” I say quickly, before anyone can interrupt. “You call me.” Then I return my eyes to my father. “Because my mother was right to run. And anyone who stays is a damn fool.”
My father lets out a bellow of rage and throws himself towards me, but I’m already out the door, running down the steps. Jerome is leaning casually against the waiting car but he jumps up when he sees me coming, pulling the back door open and running for the driver’s door. Jerome starts the car even as he sits down and slams it into drive the moment I hurl myself into the back seat.
“Go!” I shout, pulling the door behind me and looking over my shoulder to see my seething father stumble into the drive. Jerome does as he’s asked and peels off of his property and onto the road.
“Do you ever not cause trouble, Fay?” he mumbles, glancing at me worriedly in the rearview mirror.
I pause and then levelly meet his gaze, still shaken. “Look who’s talking, Jerome,” I mumble, sarcastic.
Jerome gives me a little laugh that warms my heart. He drives swiftly down the road for a few moments before speaking again. “Come on, kid,” he says kindly. “Let’s get you a milkshake. You look like you need it.”
“Is that…allowed?” I ask, curious.
Jerome just cocks his head and glances at me over his shoulder. “Lippert told me to take you to lunch, right? Who am I to take you home hungry. Besides,” he says, hesitant, “you’re the boss’ girl now. I’m yours to command.”
I settle back into the leather of the seats, a bit pleased at this, my heart certainly lighter to have Jerome be so nice to me after such a nightmare of a visit. I know, suddenly, precisely why Daniel likes him so much.
“Well then,” I say softly. “Milkshakes and cheeseburgers it is. Lead the way, Jerome.”
Jerome and I come back a few hours later after an afternoon of light chat. We kept it easy, neither of us wanting to address the elephant between us. Instead, we talk mostly about horses. When we enter the house we’re too busy laughing, the dregs of our milkshakes still in our hands, to notice Kent standing in the hallway staring at us.
Jerome notices first, stopping in his tracks and clearing his throat, the smile dropping from his face. Kent says nothing, just slowly puts his hands in his pockets and shifts his weight to his back foot, giving us both a long stare.
Something about it I don’t know what, maybe the arrogance in his stance, or the way that he stopped us both in our tracks just by standing there makes me roll my eyes. Despite everything all of the trauma of the afternoon, and the crazy intimidation I felt on the third floor last night Kent’s macho bullshit still makes me want to push back.
“My dad wasn’t in the mood to feed me,” I report calmly, “so Jerome took me to get cheeseburgers and milkshakes. You want some?” Innocently, I hold my milkshake out to him, straw first.
Kent’s eyes flick to the milkshake and then back up to my face. “No, Fay,” he responds, his voice low. Then he nods to Jerome, dismissing him. Jerome is gone before I can even see him move.
“Your father called me,” Kent says, prowling close enough to touch. I refuse to move an inch. “He says you were…disrespectful.” Slowly, he raises a hand to my face, his thumb brushing over the red mark that lingered after my father slapped me. I flinch. Kent drops his hand.
“Why do I get the feeling that you’re giving me the PG version of what he actually said?” I reply, my voice low.
“Because,” Kent replies, still standing close to me. “I didn’t think you’d like it very much if I told you that he called you a conceited, spoiled, ungrateful whore.”
I can’t help the smile that tugs at my lips as I look up into Kent’s face. But I am surprised to see Kent give me one in return. My stomach turns over at the sight of this, at the discovery that I’ve…pleased him. And that I quite liked doing it.
Suddenly, I want to please him again.
But then, just as suddenly, I am hit with flashes of the memories of last night of how frightened I was when he moved his hand low on my body, touching places no one has touched before. And I flinch away, knowing deep down that I’m…I’m just not ready for it. Not now.
“Fay,” Kent says, his voice oddly choked as I take a step back from him, looking at the floor.
“Um,” I say, buying time as I step to the side and work to move past him. “I’m just going to go upstairs ”
“Fay,” Kent says again, insistent, placing a hand on my waist in a plea to stop. I hesitate at his gentle hand and look up at him. “Please,” he says, his eyes uncharacteristically wide. “Let me make it up to you…”
“Um,” I reply, hesitating again because I don’t really know what he means. Make what up to me? The horrible lunch he forced me to go to? The embarrassment of Daniel finding out?
But in my heart, I know precisely what he wants to make up for.
I’m just not sure I’m ready to hear it.
So, I push past him, a little surprised when he lets me go, his hand dragging lightly across my stomach as I pull away and move towards the stairs.
“Fay,” Kent calls after me when I’m halfway up the steps, his voice scolding. I look down at him to see the Kent I know has returned, his hands in his pockets, his gaze perfectly controlled. “Don’t forget that we have a contract. And I intend to collect.”
I surprise myself with my wicked grin, then, as I look down at him. Because this, at least this cat and mouse game? It’s familiar ground. And really, I do know, after last night, that Kent isn’t going to enforce that contract if I don’t want him to. He wants me to want it.
And, if I’m honest? After a day to think about it, and looking at him right now, staring up at me with his muscular arms crossed, his diamond-cut jaw clenched, all power, and all at my command?
I still do.
I want it.
Just…on my terms, like Janeen said.
“We have a contract, Kent,” I say, my smile growing as I lean over the banister to get a better look at him. “But that contract had no specific timeline. So, I guess…” I shrug. “We’ll just have to see.”
Then, without a look back, I jog the rest of the way up the stairs.
______________________
At around eight o’clock, a knock comes at my door, making my stomach plummet almost to my feet. I hesitate, knowing it could be one of only a few things. I’d pushed Kent this afternoon so it could be him, ready to push me back but…
I take a deep breath in through my nose and steel myself, moving towards the door. It’s better to know, I think, than to sit on my bed for fifteen minutes speculating about it. Which is something I know I am perfectly capable of doing. But…I’ve got to be brave.
So, I pull my door open and hear a little plop as something falls flat at my feet.
Surprised, I look down to see a box there, tied with a white ribbon tonight. I lean down and scoop it up into my arms, closing my door behind me as I hurry to the bed. Eagerly, I untie the bow and shake the box open.
I’m absolutely stunned by what I see.
Slowly, I unpack the box, marveling at the incredible softness of the little silk pajama shorts and matching camisole, each embroidered with the most delicate lily details along their edges. Then, I gasp when beneath it I find the most luxurious robe I’ve ever seen cut short, but trimmed at the neck and the cuffs with soft white fur.