Fall For My Ex's Mafia Dad

Chapter 0083

My father settles me into a comfortable chair at the center of the group and Tristin, to my right, shoots

me a cold smile. Baby Estrella, in her lap, coos a happy greeting to me, so I give them both a warm

smile in return.

It’s a happy affair, really – everyone seems eager to greet me, to bring me plates of food, to ask me

about my life, my studies, and my career.

Overall, I’m kept quite busy and happy, getting to know my biological family and all of their friends. I

catch a glimpse, as the afternoon passes and the sun starts to set, of Daniel still happily playing

volleyball. Apparently, his team has progressed to the championship round.

As people start to settle in for the evening and stronger liquor starts to be poured into everyone’s cups,

I start to notice…well. That there are a lot of boys around.

I look around the circle, noting that there are, of course, women – aunts and cousins, many of them.

But I’ve also been introduced, this afternoon, to a variety of handsome young men. All here alone.

And all, apparently, single.

For instance, the one who is talking to me now – or, should I say, who has been talking at me since he

sat down in Tristin’s seat as soon as she abandoned it to go feed the baby.

“Yeah, I’m in finance,” he says, taking a swig of his beer. He gives me a little smirk. “So, you majored in

psych, right?” he asks. Text content © NôvelDrama.Org.

I squirm a little in my chair, uncomfortable. “Um,” I say, “how did you know that?”

“Your dad told me,” he says, using the neck of his beer bottle to gesture towards my father across the

fire. “Or at least, he told my dad. Who told me.” The guy looks at me again. “They, uh…know each

other.”

“Oh,” I say, my lips pursing as I look away from him. Am I supposed to know what that means?

“Yeah,” the guy continues – what was his name again? “So, our dads think it’s a good idea if we like,

get to know each other.” He waggles his eyebrows at me suggestively.

I sit back in my chair, my mouth falling open.

“So are you free?” he asks, leaning in. “On like, Saturday? I’ll take you out somewhere nice. And then

maybe, afterwards…” he runs a finger along my forearm, which I immediately snatch away.

“Um, sorry,” I say, staring at him. “But I’m engaged?”

“What?” he says, sitting back in his chair. Then, suddenly, he laughs. “No, you’re not.”

“I assure you,” I say, opening my eyes wide and leaning forward. “I am. To that guy,” I point over to

Daniel, who is still playing volleyball in the fading sun. Though, because he’s far away, I guess my

pointing towards a generalized group of men isn’t very convincing.

The young man next to me has the gall to laugh again. “No seriously,” he says, taking another swig

from his beer. “If you’re engaged, then where’s your ring?”

I fish around in my beach and then slide my engagement ring back on my finger. I had taken it off while

I ate crab and lobster – too much butter. I didn’t want to risk it slipping off and getting lost in the sand.

“What’d you say to that one,” the newcomer mutters.