Fall For My Ex's Mafia Dad novel Chapter 101

Jerome drives casually down the country roads close to the stables, singing along with the old country music from the 50s and 60s that’s playing on the radio. I smile, watching and listening to him. Who knew that a guy trying to work his way up in a mafia family could sing so well.

And knew so much Patsy Cline.

I shrug, looking out the window, enjoying the view when suddenly Jerome slams on the breaks.

“Shit,” he mutters as our car skids to a stop, beginning to fishtail a little.

I gasp, grabbing on to the handle above my head and the center console to hold myself steady. My vision, of course, snaps directly to the road, anxious to see what the hell is in our way.

My eyes go wide with shock when I see it.

A bright red Ferrari, situated sideways in the middle of the road, blocking any traffic that might come by on either side.

And leaning against it, his arms crossed casually in front of him, is a young man in a fashionable designer sweatsuit. With tattoos all the way up his neck.

“Shit,” Jerome says again, scrambling for the glove box, popping it open and pulling out –

Oh my god, a gun.

“What!?” I ask, my eyes following it with shock. “Has that been there the whole time!?”

Jerome ignores me, flicking the safety off the gun and expertly ensuring that the clip is full of bullets.

“Stay still, Fay,” he murmurs, looking out of the windshield as Ivan stands up from his position leaning against the car, smirking at Jerome in the front seat. Then, his eyes slide to mine, and he cocks his head to the side.

A question.

“Am I?” Ivan asks, glancing over his shoulder, feigning ignorance. Then, he turns back to me and gives me his most charming smile. “My bad.”

I just raise an eyebrow at him.

“Where are you off to?” he asks next, too casual.

“You know where I’m going, Ivan,” I say, shaking my head a little, unwilling to play his game. Clearly, if he’s here, he knew that I would be coming to Kent’s stables this morning. And he knew precisely what time I’d be here, and why I was going.

“You look cute,” he says, sliding his hands into his pockets. “A real equestrian, in that getup. Can you ride?”

“Barely,” I say, looking to my side at the pretty fields by the side of the road. Really, though, I turned away because I didn’t want him to see the little smile on my face that came as a result of his compliment. “But I like my horse. He needs his exercise.”

My face more under control now, I turn back to him, crossing my arms. “So do you mind?”