Fall For My Ex's Mafia Dad

Chapter 0047

Daniel nods but I look between them again. “Wait,” I say, “catch me up. What’s so bad about that?”

Kent says nothing, staring at me – challenging me, I think, to figure it out myself. But Daniel shakes his

head and explains. “Fay,” he says, “when big families get together like this, sometimes other gangs see

it as an…opportunity. Two birds with one stone, as it were.”

“Or,” Kent says, picking up the thread. “Because Alden has greater numbers than us, he could see it as

an…opportunity. To pressure us into deals we’re not happy making. It’s…non-preferred.”

“Oh,” I say, raising my eyebrows. “Maybe we should…not go.”

Kent shakes his head again. “No, he’s got us cornered there. He’s already sent out the invitations to all

of his people, all of mine. It’s short notice, but…if I keep you from it, it will look like I’m keeping you from

your family.”

Daniel and I nod, understanding.

“Well,” I say, hesitating, “I could just go…alone…”

Kent freezes then, looking at me with humor and disbelief in his eyes. Then, he bursts out laughing.

“Not a chance in hell, Fay,” he says, walking by me and giving me a little swat on my jodhpur-clad butt.

“Go get ready!” he calls. “We’re leaving at 4:30, sharp! I want you two looking good!”

Both Daniel and I stare at him as he walks away. Published by Nôv'elD/rama.Org.

“Did he…” I say, shocked.

“Just…” Daniel continues, his voice low and unbelieving.

I turn to look him, my eyes as wide as saucers. “Did your dad just smack my ass?”

A few hours later, Fiona is putting the finishing touches on my hair. I groan a little as she pins the last

piece into place, finishing it off with some hairspray. My entire scalp hurts, each strand of hair having

been combed and tugged and curled and pinned and sprayed.

The hairdo is a triumph, of course. It’s so elaborately curled and swept up delicately off my shoulders

that I look like I could be getting married.

“You’re gorg,” she says, leaning down so that I can see both of our faces in the mirror. She laughs,

then, giving me a kiss on the cheek and then whipping her lipstick off my skin with her thumb.

“Absolutely gorgeous!”

I stand up and let Fiona help me into the little black cocktail dress she’s chosen for the occasion, the

fabric shimmering subtly in the low light of my room. It skims off my shoulders and cuts high on my

thighs – definitely racier than anything she’s put me in before.

“Are you sure this isn’t a little…risqué?” I ask, considering myself in the mirror. “For like, a meeting the

family sort of thing?”

“When it was your dad, it was one thing to look like a pretty pretty princess,” Fiona says confidently,

zipping me up. “But trust me, I know women like those you’re meeting tonight. If you come in looking

like a little girl, they’ll eat you alive.”

We both look at me in the mirror and I’m surprised by what I see. If last time I was the Mafia princess,

tonight I am dressed as the Femme Fatale. The woman who can wreck it all if she wants, and walk

away laughing.

“You look as if you could breathe fire,” Fiona says approvingly, passion in her words.

“Do you really think so?” I ask, turning to look at her.

“Baby Fay,” she says, shaking her head at me with a little pity in her eyes. “Our innocent little baby. You

really have no idea what you’ve got going on, do you?”

I frown at her, not understanding.

“You could have them all in the palm of your hand,” she whispers to me, holding out her own in front of

my face to demonstrate. “With just one look. You could bring them all to their knees.”

I snap my head back to the mirror, wondering if it’s true. Thinking, suddenly – perversely, I know – of

Kent on his knees before me. And what I’d make him do if I had him there.