Fall For My Ex’s Mafia Father

Gifts

Chapter 4 – Free Yourself–1

“I’m just saying,” Janeen says, shrugging as she slides an omelet out onto a plate. “It’s a red flag when a guy doesn’t want to meet her friends and family. I mean, who even is this Daniel guy, anyway?”

I stop dead on the stairs hearing these words, just three steps away from the kitchen. I stay still, hoping to hear what Janeen and dad really think.

“I’m just saying,” dad says, shrugging in his chair at the table. “I think you should trust Fay a little more. She’s a clever girl.” He turns and looks directly at me. “Aren’t you, kid?”

I scowl, embarrassed to be caught eavesdropping. I take the final steps down into the kitchen and give dad a kiss on the cheek, sitting down in the chair next to him. “I’m smart, but I’m not a kid anymore. Time to update the nickname.”

“Never,” he says, smiling at me. “You’re my kiddo forever.”

Janeen brings me a plate of eggs, patting me on the head. Even though we’re not related by blood, she treats me just as any condescending big sister would. I came to live with David and Janeen when David married my mom.

Even after mom died in her car accident only two years after the wedding, David never gave me any reason to think of him as anything besides my dad. I love him just as much as any blood relation. I have no memories of my biological dad and no idea

where he is.

4 – Free Yourself–2

this Daniel is a great guy.” He looks at me, then, a little pity in his eyes. “Like she says, he’s just a gentleman.”

mirth. “I just want more for our Fay baby! You deserve passion in your relationship, as well

I murmur, finishing my eggs as quick as I

to make amends. “I’m not working tonight, and we can go have some fun! We’ll get free drinks and

I’ve spent my life at school and coffee shops, Janeen has been a night owl, working at various clubs as a stripper. Not cheap sleezy places, either, but really high–end ones where they respect her work as a kind of art. She’s very talented, and she makes a ton of money.

She dances in her chair, showing us some

personality, it’s hard not to want to go wherever she’s going. “I’ll think about it,” I

way too much.

at her and pat dad on the shoulder as I head into

not go along with it? “Besides,” he had said. “As long as she respects herself, why should

grateful, again, for such

touch with my body and my instincts. My cheeks grow red and I find myself – bizarrely – typing Kent Lippert

news channel that dad watches every night calls Lippert the Mafia King, always detailing his dirty deeds, but the sites I’m looking show him standing in front of

lists positive reviews of his many businesses, with employees suggesting that he’s a great boss. Still another…god, is that Brad Pitt

gather my hair in my hands, passively starting to braid it as I look through these results, trying to match it with that ruthless man I met in the

flopping onto the couch and

I say, snatching at it.