Fall For My Ex's Mafia Dad novel Chapter 93

I gasp air back into my lungs after a moment of real fear when I couldn’t pull any in –

It aches as it fills me, having been so roughly knocked out of me in the first place –

God damnit, I think, shaking a little with the shock of falling off a horse for the first time, of the sudden violence that caused it –

I roll over on the ground, pulling myself to a seated position, pressing my eyes closed as I work to steady my breath.

Someone is there next to me, almost instantly – I feel a hand on my shoulder, a tremulous voice asking if I’m okay –

When I open my eyes, I’m shocked to see it is Kent kneeling next to me, concern written in every line of his face.

“Are you serious?” I shout at him, anger mixing with the fear running through my veins. I brush his hand off my shoulder. “We would all be fine if you didn’t rush in here like a crazy person! What the hell –“

Suddenly, I remember my horse and spin my torso around, looking behind me to see Heathcliff at the other side of the arena, looking at us with wide and frightened eyes.

I push myself to my feet in a moment, heading towards him –

“Fay,” Kent says behind me, grabbing for my arm. But he’s too slow, and I’m able to pull out of his grasp, glaring at him over my shoulder as I hurry over to my poor horse.

Behind him, I can see Jerome starting to stand up as well, a hand on his jaw, looking anxiously between us.

Still, I don’t have time for that. I slow myself as I cross the ring to Heathcliff, knowing that he’ll shy again and be further spooked if I run at him in a rage. So, instead, I force myself to adopt a casual stroll, talking soft nonsense to him as I approach.

I see the horse physically relax when he sees how calm I am – or at least, how calm I’m pretending to be. When I hold my hand out to him, he stretches his neck forward, pressing his nose into my palm, trusting me. I take a moment, then, as I take his reins in my left hand, to stroke his neck and tell him how pretty and wonderful he is, hoping to calm him even further.

But the whole time I’m being nice to my horse, I’m getting angrier and angrier inside.

Who the hell does Kent Lippert think he is?

I pass Jerome in the same manner, giving him a dirty look as well. He still presses his hand to his face, which is expressionless as he watches me pass.

I’m not blameless in this, I know. I let Jerome continue, I liked the way it felt when he paid attention to me, flirted with me, told me I was pretty and let me wonder what it might be like to let him teach me how to ride the way Western girls ride. What it might be like to kiss him at a campfire under the stars.

But he knows better than that, and so do I.

I’m no cowgirl, even if I wanted to be. It’s an impossibility.

Because I’m the daughter of one major crime lord and the fiancé of another. Where the hell did Jerome think this was going to end? Where was the happy ending here, for either of us?

I’m fuming as I get Heathcliff into his stall, as I begin to take off his saddle and tack. Out of the corner of my eye I see Jerome pass the stall too, walking to the front of the stable where he had parked the car a few hours ago.

Jerome looks worried, as he goes, and catches my eye, but he doesn’t say a word to me.