Fall For My Ex's Mafia Dad novel Chapter 198

“Come on, Daniel,” I say, my voice derisive. “Your dad is not that funny.”

“No, he’s not,” Daniel murmurs, seeing it himself. “Oh weird,” he adds, turning back to me. “My fiancé and my auntie, both competing for my dad.” He scowls and snatches the drink out of my hand now, draining it. “And no one going for me.”

“What,” I ask, laughing at him now. “Do you want Natalia to go for you?”

“What?” Daniel gasps. “Ew, no, Fay –“

“Because,” I continue, laughing now, “you’re not technically related, and with how messed up this family tree already is, it could work –“

“Gross!” Daniel exclaims, standing up and pulling me with him, both of us laughing now. “Come on, we need a refill,” he says, guiding me back over to the bar. We’re both still giggling at the idea of Daniel getting together with Natalia, and I’m egging him on by imitating her Italian accent and thinking of things she’d say to him on their wedding night – how she’d boss him around, and the things she’d complain about - when someone comes up behind us at the bar.

“What’s so funny,” Kent asks, surprising us, and Daniel and I turn as one, bursting into laughter when we see him standing there. Kent frowns at us, but not in a mean or angry way. Honestly, he looks a little pleased to see us having fun, but just…displeased to be left out?

Or maybe frowning is his default expression. I don’t really know, and I’m laughing too hard to care.

“Nothing,” I say, wiping my eyes free of a few tears of mirth as the bartender delivers my glass of red wine. “Just…a stupid joke,” I continue, my giggles fading. Daniel nods, smiling at his dad and taking a sip of his second Manhattan.

“Red wine?” Kent asks, frowning at my choice as I take the glass off of the bar.

“Oh god,” I moan, slumping my shoulders and looking up at him. “Not you too. Can’t anyone just let me drink what I want to drink?”

“Do what you want, Fay,” Kent shrugs, his frown deepening. “I just thought on a summer night that something like a glass of prosecco –“

“Well, Lippert?” my father calls to Kent, who has turned away from the bar and is glaring at the group standing at the door. “Are you going to turn us away from this happy affair?”

Everyone is absolutely silent as Kent pauses for a second and then slowly, with perfect deliberation, begins to cross the floor. He stops about halfway, leaving about twenty feet between him, and my father, and my…

My what? My maybe-boyfriend? The lion tamer I make out with sometimes at taco stands and my dad’s mountain house?

“Of course,” Kent replies to my father’s question, his voice at once even and dangerous. “Come have a drink, Alden. You’re going to be family soon enough as it is. Bring your…friends with you,” Kent concludes, slowly raising his glass of whiskey to his lips and taking a casual sip.

Every line of Kent in this moment is a graceful warning that they can enter…

But they’re on his turf now, and playing by his rules.