Fall For My Ex's Mafia Dad novel Chapter 141

“Oh,” I say, frowning and feeling guilty all of a sudden. “I didn’t mean to – I’m sorry –“

“Romulus,” Tristin calls, and I look up at her, still standing stern by the door. Romulus lets go of me and runs to her. I follow closely behind.

Tristin gives me a steady stare as I climb the steps to her house, her expression unchanging when I attempt an awkward smile. “He’s mad at you,” she informs me, stern, as I approach her. I don’t have to think very hard to figure out that “he” means my father, not little Romey here. “You watch what you say – or you’ll make hell for all of us, even when you leave.”

“Oh,” I say, red creeping into my cheeks. “I’m sorry – I never meant – “

“No,” she responds, narrowing her eyes a little at me before turning to open her door. “I don’t suppose you do think about how any of your antics affect us. Not at all.”

I open my mouth to protest but then shut it as I follow Tristin into the house. Because it’s right – I haven’t thought about it. Not at all. But then again, it’s not really my fault that my father treats her poorly. I sigh, feeling a headache start at the back of my head as I follow Tristin and Romulus into the sitting room. This is a level of family drama I never signed up for.

My father starts in on me the moment I step into the room.

“What the hell do you think you’re toying with, girl,” he demands, glaring at me as Tristin and Romulus make their way to the couch. Romulus goes a little pale as he looks at his dad and then back at me with wide eyes.

“A slut!” he shouts, his face growing red as he spits the words at me. “A slut! My daughter, all over town, drinking with that boy – sitting in his lap on a picnic table – kissing him – I have pictures of it! Everyone does!”

I’m shocked as well as horrified as I listen to this. I had honestly thought Ivan and I were safe at the little taco truck – I had no idea my father’s intel was so good. I grit my teeth, realizing that my privacy has been violated again – that a moment that I thought was precious, private, and mine was infiltrated and documented. And now, apparently, used against me.

“You will fall in line, girl,” my father growls, pointing a finger at me. “To begin, you will move in here – it is ridiculous that you are still in the Lippert house even after your engagement has ended – people will think he’s taken you as his mistress –“

I laugh, my body bending over almost in half as I hear this – hear my father accusing me of precisely the truth as if it’s the worst thing I could possibly do in the entire world. As I begin to straighten up, I see that this bodily reaction may have been…a mistake.