Fall For My Ex's Mafia Dad

Chapter 0021

Kent clenches his jaw as he observes my reaction. “Chin up, girl,” he says, his voice steady, giving me

strength. “Meet him with pride.”

I swallow and nod, trying to embody that. But inside I’m quailing.

Daniel walks back over to me, his steps slowing and his face growing worried when he sees who I’m

talking to. When Kent catches sight of him, he nods. “Good,” Kent says, beckoning Daniel closer.

As Daniel hands my glass of champagne to me, his father holds out a black velvet box to him.

Frowning with confusion, Daniel takes and opens it. His face falls slack as he sees what’s inside.

My own jaw drops when I see the size of the diamond sitting on the little velvet pillow. At least ten

carats, emerald cut, set in an art deco style.

“It would be appropriate,” Kent says, his voice commanding, “for Fay to wear your family’s ring tonight,

since you are engaged.”

“Dad,” Daniel says, looking up at him. “This was mom’s ring…”

Kent nods sharply, holding out the box to him. It’s not really an offer.

Daniel sighs and takes the box, lifting the ring from it. He looks at me and cocks his head to the side.

My fingers shaking a little, I raise my hand. As Daniel takes it and starts to slip the ring onto my finger, I

wonder what this means.

Is this a tacit agreement to the engagement? Or some sort of ploy for when I meet my father? Is Kent

trying to mark me as part of his own family, even as I meet my own?

My questions are interrupted, though, by the feeling of the ring sticking at my second knuckle.

Daniel pushes harder, but it won’t budge.

“Um, dad,” Daniel says, looking between us. “I think it’s too small.”

I bite my lip, embarrassed. I guess Daniel’s mom had slimmer fingers than me.

Kent glares at Daniel and then nudges him aside, taking my hand in his own. Deftly, he angles the ring

so that it slips over the knuckle, and then presses down. I look up into his eyes as the ring slides home

to the base of my finger.

I hold my breath, almost, as I feel my cold hand in his warm one, the weight of his ring on my finger.

He stares back at me, his lips parting slightly, revealing clenched teeth behind.

“Thanks dad,” Daniel says, a little awkward, breaking the tension as he takes my hand out of his

father’s grip, holding it gently in his own. He gives his dad a weird look and then turns his attention to

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“It looks good on you, Fay,” Daniel says, looking me in the face and smiling.

I hesitate a little, trying to smile back, and then focusing on the ring. This incredible, gigantic, insane

rock on my finger.

It’s beautiful, but…

Before I can consider it any more, the room goes quiet, the band dying awkwardly off as they notice

that everyone has stopped dancing and has turned towards the door.

Footsteps echo as a man walks in, a woman in a slinky grey dress only a few steps behind. Following

her are at least four guards, probably more, though I can’t see any further behind them to count.

He’s a tall man – as tall as Kent, but older, bulkier. His fine pinstriped suit is tight across the paunch of

his stomach, but he has a certain power as he begins to cross the room towards us, surveying the

crowd as he goes. The woman he came with moves away to the bar.

I hold my breath as the man walks over to us, his eyes sweeping over me from head to foot.

He shocks me, though, by ignoring me when he finally arrives. Instead, he turns to Kent and puts out a

hand.

“Lippert,” the man says, not smiling. Kent accepts the hand, shaking it.

“So glad you could come, Alden,” he says and then silently returns his hands to his pockets. He lets

Alden take the lead.

Alden nods and looks back at me. “So. Is this her?”

Kent nods, putting a hand between my shoulder blades. Encouraged, I raise my chin and stand before

this man, letting him look at me, feeling, more than anything, like a horse at the market. I wonder,

passively, if he’s going to start counting my teeth.

“Alden,” Kent says, “this is Fay Thompson. Your daughter.”