Fall For My Ex’s Mafia Dad
Chapter 117

A day alone with my very important gentleman Romulus ends up being way more fun than I thought it would. We ended up going out front to fetch Jerome because I figured that we were going to be here for a while and didn't want him to be left alone out in the heat. This ended up being an amazing choice because Romulus took to Jerome immediately, crawling all over him like a jungle gym.

We're all laying out in the back yard staring up at the clouds about three hours into my visit, Romulus catching his breath after another long bout of his new favorite game, Pirates, where he and Jerome basically just chase each other around with sticks, when a dark shadow falls over me.

"Oh," I say, surprised when I realize that it's not a sudden rain cloud but, instead, my father smiling down at us. "Oh, hello!" I say, laughing a little and working to sit up. "I didn't hear you come outside."

"I was quiet," my father says, smiling at me as Romulus shrieks and throws himself at our dad, clearly thrilled to see him. "It did my heart good to see you with your brother. I have....wanted to see that for a long time."

I bite my lip a little at the sincerity in my father's voice and then smile at him, this man who is a stranger but who so clearly does not want to be.

"Dad," I say, standing up and reaching out my hand towards him. Quite suddenly I feel a little pang of guilt at calling this man dad, when another man raised me - and then another pang, when I realize that I haven't reached out to my actual dad in a while. I make a mental note to fix that as soon as I can.

"Fay," my father replies, taking my hand.

"Romulus!" Romulus shouts, throwing two hands up in the air in victory. We all laugh and then Jerome takes one of the little boy's hands.

"Come on, kid," he says, "let's go get a popsicle." Then, quite politely, Jerome looks to my father with a raised eyebrow, asking if that's all right. My father nods graciously, and Jerome leads Romulus away.

"Dad," I say, starting again, squeezing his hand a little. "I want to be...better than we are. I'm sorry - I know it's not...perfect, between us. Far from it."

"Fay," he says, shaking his head and coming closer to pat me on the cheek with his other hand. "I owe you an apology as well. I was horrible to you the last time you came to visit. Come, we'll start again."

He snaps his fingers to a servant standing at the back door who I hadn't noticed - who certainly hadn't been there all day - and then leads me over to a little wooden bench in the corner of his back garden, prettily shaded and surrounded by flowers. As we sit, the servant comes back out with a little try with two long-stemmed glasses filled with bubbling, rich orange liquid.

"What's this?" I ask, taking one off the tray and smiling at the servant.

My father tsks as he takes his own drink, waving a hand for the servant to leave. "A sin," he says, smiling and shaking his head at me. "For my daughter to not know Aperol when she sees it."

Curious, I take a sip from the little straw poking out of the glass and my eyes go wide when I realize how good it is. "Oh my god," I say, looking down at it. "Oh wow, it's delicious."

"Of course it is," my father laughs, patting me on the knee. "Aperol, prosecco, and tonic. A shame your Daniel has not taught you this."

I shrug and smile at him. "Daniel and Kent drink more whiskey than anything else," I say.

"Irishman's drink," my father says, wrinkling his nose in distaste. "A betrayal but...forgivable. At least they, too, are Catholic."

I grin, not really getting why that matters, but...whatever. I put the phrase in my back pocket to use on Natalia later.

"What brings you to me, daughter," my father says, turning towards me. "I know it is not merely a visit to see your brother, though I'd be happy if it was. The timing is...too rich."

I shrug, not admitting or denying anything.

"Did your Daniel send you?" my father pushes. "To convince me, again, that your engagement to him is real? I am not fooled, Fay," he continues, his voice taking on a bit of a warning. "I can see that you...have more for Ivan, in your heart, than you do for the boy to whom you are engaged."

I blush a little, embarrassed that it's been that obvious.

"You don't get it, dad," I say, tracing a finger along the wood of the bench before I look up into his eyes. "Daniel and I...we're dedicated to one another."

"Dedication makes a better match than passion," he says, considering.

I blush again to think of my father thinking of me and Ivan in terms of passion.

"But Fay," he continues, "I have...other reasons for wishing you'd turn your head in a new direction. Not to Ivan, if that's not what you want. But...elsewhere." "What?" I ask, curious. "What reasons?"

"Fay," he says, shaking his head. "We have...not been to each other, what a father and a daughter should be. That was your mother's choice - not mine. I would have kept you, if she had let me, raised you to the life you should have had. I hope that you would let me give it to you now. Let me help you make the choice that will make you happy."

"But..." I slow down here, wanting to get this right, wanting to...

I take a deep breath, thinking about what Kent would do in this situation, and realize that he probably wouldn't say much at all and, instead, let the other person weave enough rope to hang themselves with. "Dad," I say, reaching out and taking his hand, doing my best to make my face look worried. "What do you mean?"

"I mean I wish for you to be happy," my father says, clamming up a little and leaning back against the arm of the bench, studying me.

I decide to push it and press my eyes shut, making myself think as many horrible things as I can in just a few seconds - imagining everyone I love dying, my horse getting hurt, Daniel in a terrible car crash -

And when I look up at my father again, my face is red with emotion, my eyes a just a little wet. "Please," I say, shaking my head. "I don't know what to do."

Something breaks in my father - I watch it happen. And he leans forward towards me, true concern in his eyes. "Fay," he whispers, tsking again and reaching for me, pulling me close. "I would keep you safe, my darling," he murmurs against my hair. "Does that mean," I sniff, allowing myself to get worked up, to actually worry now. "That...that you don't think Daniel..."

"No, Fay," he says, "I don't think your Daniel can protect you, no matter your fondness for him."

"Ivan said..." I continue, hesitating. "That he could? And I...I do like him..."

"He can," my father says, "with my help, he can."

"But Natalia..." I say, mentally crossing my fingers and hoping that I'm not pushing it too far. "She said..."

"What did that bitch say," my father snaps, and I can almost feel the sneer on his face.

I push away from him then, pretending that he scared me a little, but wanting to see his face. "Nothing - I'm sorry -"

"No," he says, his tempering rising a little as he grabs my arm. I let my eyes go wide and look at his hand, taking a sharp breath in.

"I'm sorry, Fay," he says, releasing me and shaking his head. "My temper - I am not good -"

"She said that you were...the weakest..." I breathe. "Can you protect me?"

And my father -

I'm shocked, but he laughs. Laughs.

"Your Lippert's Natalia," he says, shaking his head, "she has no idea what she means. She and Alessi have been to tied to the Lippert family for too long. They only know...one side."

I don't know what to do with myself then - and I certainly don't want him to see my face- so I tuck myself back against him as if I need comfort - and honestly, maybe I do.

"You don't have to make any big decisions today, Fay," my father says, wrapping an arm around me and kissing my head. "There is plenty of time. We will make you a good match."

And my father doesn't say anything else on the subject, but his point is quite clear: his idea of a good match?

It's not Daniel. Not because he doesn't have the right lineage, but because my father, like Ivan, is convinced that the Lippert family are the ones going down.