Filed to story: Falling for My Ex's Mafia Dad Novel Free PDF (Fay Alden & Kent Lippert)
I open the door and give the housekeeper standing there a smile, accepting the folded clothes and the white box beneath. My eyes raise at that the white box in the morning is new. Then, I turn back to Daniel, frowning a little. “You don’t get clothes delivered?”
“No, Fay,” Daniel says, sitting up and staring at me. I see him put it all together in his sleepy mind as I walk back to the bed. “Oh, gross, seriously? He picks out your clothes every day?”
“I kind of like it,” I say, shrugging and laying out the clothes I’ve been sent this morning, tossing the white box on my vanity and hoping Daniel doesn’t ask about it. “Takes a lot of pressure off of me. And he has good taste.”
“It’s so creepy, Fay,” Daniel whispers, scrunching his nose.
“He’s been doing it since I moved in,” I reply, nonchalant as I admire the pretty blue and white dress with scalloped cap sleeves that Kent sent today. “I thought it was Fiona, at first, but she told me it’s him.”
“That’s so weird,” Daniel whispers, all in a rush, and then collapses back onto the bed.
I smile at Daniel, laughing a little, but then my laughter fades as I look carefully at the dress in my hands and wonder…well, wonder if I maybe got too used to this. Maybe I haven’t thought enough about how weird this actually might be.
As I study the dress I consider that Kent controls pretty much every aspect of my life now. He decides what I wear, what I do all day, where I go, where my money comes from, where my sister and my father live. And while I’ve accepted a lot of that as part of living under a mafia boss’s roof and enjoying the luxury of my situation…is this really what I want for my life?
I sigh, tossing the dress onto the bed, looking at it. It’s a delicate, pretty thing where was Kent imagining me going in that dress?
Did I want to go there?
I shake my head.
“Okay, Daniel,” I say, clapping my hands and making him groan at the noise. I laugh and move to the side of the bed, shaking his shoulders and making him wake up. “Go away! You’ve outstayed your welcome! Leave me alone so I can get changed!”
“No!” He shouts into the pillows, laughing too. “I want to sleep! Leave me be! You just get changed I won’t look.”
“Get up!” I shout, laughing and grabbing a pillow, which I start hitting him with. “I’ll see you in twenty minutes at breakfast, lazy.”
Daniel grumbles his assent and climbs out of bed, stretching and yawning. I see him eye the white box as he heads for the door, and then he brings his eyes to mine, curious. I just shake my head. “You don’t want to know, Daniel.”
“You’re right,” he murmurs with a sigh. Then, he blows me a little kiss, heading next door to his own room to get ready. He pulls my bedroom door shut behind him.
As soon as he closes it, I move to my wardrobe, my mind made up.
Even though I just said that I’d meet Daniel at breakfast, I actually have no intention of doing that. I pull some of my riding clothes out of the back of my wardrobe, as well as my shiny black boots. Then, I hastily get ready for my day, eager to get to breakfast before anyone else does.
Or, more accurately, past breakfast, and to the garage.
Because today, I have no real desire to hear what Kent has planned for me in that blue and white dress. Today, I want to do precisely what it is that I want to do. And today, I want to see my horse.
Forty minutes later, after successfully evading everyone but Jerome, who I made give me keys to the car, I pull up to the stables just as the sun is coming up. I park the Lexus in the spot closest to the barn doors the one usually left open for Kent. But today, I decide, it’s for me.
I give some of the workers a happy smile as I rush down the aisle to Heathcliff’s stall, pulling open the latch to the door as I beam at my pretty boy.
“Hey, handsome,” I murmur to Heathcliff, who gives me a happy little whinny and huffs at my hand, looking for a snack. I oblige him, pulling a sugar cube from my pocket that I snatched from the espresso bar when I snuck into the kitchen for just one sip of coffee before I ran for the garage.
“Did you miss me?” I softly ask my horse, scratching his forehead and then working my way down his neck. “I missed you.”
And then I take the little box of grooming tools off the shelf at the top of the stall and get to work, brushing Heathcliff’s coat until it shines and braiding his mane. I take my time with it, relishing the feeling of having all day to do this, to do precisely as I please.
But also, a little thrilled at the anticipation that…Kent isn’t going to like this.
That I’ve defied him, again. Avoided him, again.
And that I have every expectation of seeing him later, all pissed off at me. Worked up into a fury.
Just how I like him.
A few hours later, I’m leading Heathcliff back into the stables from our ride. We didn’t go in the ring today, but instead spent most of the early afternoon trotting around the property, admiring the scenery. It’s a beautiful landscape with beautiful vistas and as I rose I resented, a little, that I hadn’t been allowed to ride freely out here before.
But then again, I’m not as interested in what I’m allowed to do as I used to be.
The day is growing hot, and both Heathcliff and I have a light sheen of sweat on us as we walk into the stables. I wipe it from my forehead with the back of my arm, looking forward to wetting Heathcliff down with the hose and taking a nice long drink from it myself, when I see him.
Just standing there, in the middle of the aisle that runs between the line of stable stalls. His arms crossed, his feet spread wide apart.
Glaring at me.
Heathcliff surprises me by checking his step a bit, apparently intimidated by the raw animal fury that we can both sense coming off of the predator standing there. But I click my tongue at the horse, tugging his lead rope and asking him to come a long with me. I don’t check my stride at all, barely glancing at Kent as I make for Heathcliff’s stall.
After a moment, Heathcliff follows.
If Kent wants to talk to me, he can damn well wait until I’ve taken care of my horse.
I take a minute to settle Heathcliff in his stall, tying his rope to a metal ring on the wall and reaching for his hoof pick when suddenly one of the stable hands shows up at the stall door.
“Um,” he says, awkward, glancing over his shoulder. “I’ll do that for you, ma’am…”
“What?” I ask, standing up straight. “Why?”
He hesitates again, even more awkward, glancing again at Kent, who I’m sure gave him the order. I just give him a little laugh and wave my hand.
“Thanks,” I say, dismissal strong in my voice as I turn away and lean down to pick up one of Heathcliff’s feet so I can clean it. “But I can take care of my own horse.”
“Your horse, Fay?” I hear Kent ask. I drop Heathcliff’s hoof and straighten up again, turning to see Kent standing at the stall door now, furious at having been ignored several times this morning. “Last time I checked, I paid for that horse, and its care.”
“Really, Kent?” I ask, folding my arms over my chest and glaring at him. “You’re going to take your present back, just because you’re mad at me?”
Kent narrows his eyes. “I can take back more than the horse, Fay,” he warns, his body seeming to fill the entire doorway.
“Is that what you want, Kent?” I ask, turning fully to him now, feeling my defiance slip a bit as I think about what he’s saying. Because, as much as I like to defy him, in this moment I just…need to know. “Is that all I am to you? A contract? I defy you, and you take things away from me? I do as you say, and I get rewards?”
I see Kent tense at this change in direction. I think that he, too, was expecting a fight. Maybe looking forward to it. “Do you have a problem with that, Fay?” he asks, his voice low and resonant. “That seems to have been our deal, all along.”
“So that’s it, then,” I push, taking a step closer and looking up into his face. “I really am just…your little doll. That you dress up and move around your play house, sending me where you want me to go, doing what you want me to do.”
I take another step towards him, looking up into his face, truly curious to see how he reacts. Kent works hard to hold my gaze, to keep his emotions tucked away and not let me see anything at all besides that which he wants me to see.
“This is a job, Fay,” Kent tells me, his voice stern. “You understood that. Services in exchange for pay, for…privileges. And if you don’t perform those services…well, like any other job…”
“But this isn’t my job, Kent,” I reply, feeling my lower lip start to shake a little with unhappiness. Unhappiness I’m not sure I’ve fully acknowledged in a while. Because I’ve been…excited? About some of the changes in my life, and in my relationship? But if I really consider what they actually mean…I’m not sure anything has changed at all.