Fall For My Ex's Mafia Dad

Chapter 0048

Fiona gives me a tart little smack on the butt then, breaking my reverie and laughing as she hurries

over to the jewelry box waiting on my vanity. I give her a weird look and cover my ass with my hands.

“What is with people today,” I murmur.

She laughs again as she comes over to me, standing behind me so that she can hook the diamond

solitaire around my neck on its slim silver chain.

“You got the ring?” she asks, smacking her gum.

“Oh, yeah,” I murmur, walking swiftly over to my bedside drawer and pulling it open. I reach towards the

back, fishing it out and pushing it swiftly onto my left hand.

When I look at Fiona, she’s crossing her arms and shaking her head at me.

“A million-dollar diamond,” she says, “and you shove it in your bedside drawer?”

“Um,” I say, biting my lip in response. I hadn’t even thought about it. I look around, wondering where

else I should have put it –

“Nevermind,” she says, laughing at me more.

“Fiona,” I say, taking in her vintage Juicy velour sweatsuit. “Won’t you please come? I’ll feel so much

better with you there.” Text property © Nôvel(D)ra/ma.Org.

“Ah, baby Fay,” she says, coming to take my arm and give me a smile. “You’ll be fine. I’ve got a

headache, is all – I’ll be more comfortable here.”

I frown at her, knowing that something’s up. But, she knows more about this world than I do. If she

doesn’t want to go, I’m not going to push her.

“Okay,” I say, sighing as I headed for the door.

“Wait wait!” she calls, unzipping a garment bag and revealing a gorgeous mink stole.

“Oh my god,” I say, walking back towards it. “It’s beautiful –“

“Yeah,” she says, admiring it. “Vintage. You lucky girl.”

Smiling she goes to wrap it around my shoulders.

“Wait,” I say, not wanting to touch it. “Is it…like real? Were those alive?”

“What are you,” she scolds, “some kind of tree hugger?”

“It’s wrong,” I protest, staring at it. “I feel so bad, thinking about those little animals –“

“Baby,” she says, taking my face in her hands. “It’s vintage. These minks died over sixty years ago. No

new minks died so you could look fabulous.”

I hesitate, my eyes taking it in. It is so beautiful.

“Come on,” she says, wrapping it around me before I can say anything, tucking my hands into the little

pockets at the bottom which help me keep it around my shoulders. “It would be an insult to these little

minks, to leave them in the closet for another sixty years. Take them out! Let the world admire them!”

Laughing, I head out of the room and down the stairs, brushing my face against the wrap, enjoying the

feel of the soft fur against my cheek.

I stop though, halfway down, when I see Kent at the bottom standing with his arms crossed, his feet

apart. Staring at me.

Shy, suddenly, I hunch my shoulders up towards my ears, clutching the mink close against my chest,

pressing my thighs and knees together. I’m abruptly very aware of the shortness of my skirt. I don’t

break eye contact though. Instead, I bite my bottom lip hoping – ridiculously – that I look okay.

I swear I hear him growl as his brow lowers, his eyes locked on mine.

“Fay!” Daniel calls, joining his father at the bottom of the stairs. “Wow, you look stunning.” He gives me

a big smile and I start to move again, focusing on him as I come to his side.

“Thanks,” I say, giving him a little punch on his shoulder. “You look pretty cute yourself.”

He gives me a charming, bashful smile, and I’m reminded again just how good-looking my fiancé is.

Both of our faces turn to Kent, though, as he snorts at us, shaking his head.

“Come on,” he says, nodding towards the door. “The cars are waiting.”

With that, we head out of the house. On our way to meet my entire family.

I whistle a little as we walk into the ballroom at the country club, impressed. This place has a grand,

old-fashioned kind of charm, with freshly buffed fine oak floors, brass chandeliers, and sweeping views

of the golf greens all along the southern wall.

As soon as we enter, a waiter comes up to offer us champagne. Kent doesn’t make eye contact with

him, merely saying “whiskey, neat,” and surveying the guests. However, Daniel is more polite, nodding

and smiling as he takes two glasses from the tray, passing one to me.

We only get a few steps into the room before we are bombarded with attention.

“Is this her?” A plump woman says, hurrying over and reaching out a hand to take mine. “Is this our

darling lost Fay?”

“Um,” I say, smiling at her, pleased at the warm reception but already a little overwhelmed. “Hello –“

“Yes,” Kent says, stepping forward, not letting the woman pull me away. “This is Fay. We’re so pleased

to be here, Rosemary.”

The woman pauses, giving him a warm smile. “Well of course, we’re always glad to see you, Kent,” she

says, her eyes darting between us.