Fall For My Ex’s Mafia Dad
Chapter 182

"Okay," I say, taking a step closer and nodding, looking up at Daniel. "I - I hear you about my soft spot, all right? I'll be careful. But Daniel," I say slowly, shaking my head, making him listen. "You either trust me or you don't. I told you last night - I'm doing this because I love your dad. I'm not doing anything for Ivan, okay? And I'm going to need you to remember that in the upcoming weeks." Daniel sighs in relief but then he thinks about my words and snaps his gaze back to me, narrowing his eyes. "Wait, what are you saying?"

"What do you think I'm saying?"

"Are you...is he going to be coming around more?" Daniel asks. "Is that why I have to trust you?"

"He's going to be coming around a lot more, Danny," I say, patting his check with my hand and giving him a pained little smile. "And you're going to have to hang out with him. And pretending you're mad. And that you're not into him, like everyone else is." "Oh my godddd," Daniel groans, putting his hands over his face. "Why are you doing this to me, Fay?!"

"I have my reasons, Daniel!" I sing over my shoulder, giving my dad a wink as I head into the living room, "you either trust me or you don't!"

Daniel murmurs something discontentedly as I sit on the couch with Jerome and Janeen. As I settle in the spot next to Jerome, he wraps an arm around my shoulder without even turning his head to acknowledge me, his attention firmly on some show on TV. "Wait," Daniel says from the kitchen. "What did you just say? Pretend I'm not into him?"

"Yup," I call back.

"I am not into Ivan," Daniel growls, making me smirk. Jerome laughs a little too, glancing at me. I wrinkle my nose at him.

"Wait," Daniel says, storming into the living room and glaring around at all of us. "Are...are the rest of you into Ivan?"

"I am," Janeen says freely, raising her hand. Jerome looks at his boyfriend stone-faced, not giving anything away. Daniel takes a step forward to interrogate further, but before he can my dad interrupts by clearing his throat.

As one, we all look into the kitchen to see my dad leaning against the counter. "Well," he says, raising a beer to his lips, "I'm not, but I have to say - if I was one of the gays? I wouldn't kick him out of bed."

Janeen and I howl with laughter as Daniel's jaw drops. My dad gives Daniel a wink and then takes a long sip of his beer. "Good looking kid," dad murmurs, chuckling and coming into the living room, giving Daniel a pat on the shoulder as he goes.

"I'm going to sleep," Daniel murmurs, turning away from all of us. "I need to... rethink my entire life. And my values. And particularly, the people with whom I associate."

"Night, baby," Jerome calls casually over his shoulder. Daniel mumbles something back as I snuggle closer to Jerome's side.

"He totally thinks Ivan's hot," I murmur.

"Nah, Daniel's faithful," Jerome says, giving me another little wink. "Just like you. Like I said - you and Daniel are two peas in a f****d-up pod. Once you settle on someone? It's for the long haul. You can't even see anyone else. Which is all very much to my benefit." And I grin up at my friend, glad that someone sees the truth in me.

But also wishing, very much, that I could lay eyes on Kent. Just for a little bit, to remind me of everything that I'm fighting for.

I sigh and look down at my belly, at where my little kidney bean is growing into...a grape? I don't know. Whatever tiny food comes next. "Guess I'll just have to fight for you," I whisper to baby, too soft for even Jerome to hear, "while daddy's locked up."

The next weeks pass quickly as we fall into a weird little routine. Daniel kisses me goodbye in the morning while I savor my single cup of coffee for the day, his own triple-espresso drink packed away in a to-go container. And then he drives himself - himself - to work with my father in the fancy new Tesla provided by the Alden corporation.

Daniel doesn't work every day with my father; instead, my father has Daniel moving around to a variety of the city's shipping ports. There, he learns from my father's best men to figure out the ins and outs of his international shipping businesses - both the legitimate ones, and the illegitimate ones that import and export all kinds of illegal goods between the United States and ports unknown.

When Daniel goes, Jerome stays home with me. We all agreed on this, deciding that Jerome can function as my driver and my bodyguard on the rare occasions when I leave the house. I rolled my eyes at this suggestion at first, but Daniel's whispered "Kent would want it that way" had me convinced.

Because he's right. Kent would want it that way. And he'd probably smack the crap out of Daniel if he ever found out that he took Jerome, leaving a pregnant me at home unprotected.

Janeen does whatever she wants, as usual. She doesn't really need the money anymore - none of us do - but she still takes up shifts at Crabby Dicks, the crappy beach strip club where we had our wedding reception, whenever she wants some extra cash, or needs to dance, or just desires some male attention. Sometimes she stays out all night, sometimes she's home, but she's always here when I need her.

Dad is a more constant, quiet presence. He's been retired for years, though, so he knows how to entertain himself. Sometimes he goes back to the city to hang out with his old buddies, but most of the time he's here with me as I hunch over the kitchen table, reading through legal paperwork, and histories of mafia families, and chess manuals.

"You getting anywhere with this, Fay?" he asks, a couple of weeks into the process when I'm weirdly studying Machiavelli's The Prince alongside some of the international shipping maps that Daniel brought home from work.

I sigh and sit back, looking up at him. "I'm honestly not sure, dad," I say, running anxious hands through my hair and piling it messily on top of my head.

"Can I do anything to help?" he asks and I take a deep breath and smile up at him.

"Maybe order a pizza?" I say, hopeful. Dad he laughs and goes to make the call. I dig eagerly into the greasy hot pizza about an hour later, absolutely starving. Because that's how I am these days - just constantly hungry and constantly snacking to keep the nausea Because the moment that I stepped into my second trimester...

away.

Let's just say that the easy nature of my first trimester? When I wondered whether I was pregnant, because I couldn't feel - at all - that I was pregnant?

Well. That went the hell out the window.

I woke up in the middle of the night one night, green to the gills, and rushed to my bathroom to barf up absolutely everything in my stomach. And it honestly feels like I have been nauseous every single second since that first night.

The only thing that keeps the nausea at bay is constantly eating. And my solution to this - to which no one has yet protested - is to keep snacks in every corner of the house so that I can wander from room to room and there's always something waiting for me. "What is this," Janeen murmurs one afternoon as she sits in my bathroom with me, watching me lean over my sink to put a little mascara on my eyelashes. I turn to look at her and see that she's pulled a bag of popcorn out from the bathroom closet, stashed in with the towels.

"That's my...bathroom snack..." I murmur, suddenly blushing as I realize how weird it is. But my sister just laughs at me and puts it back.

"Whatever you need, Fay," she sighs, coming to put an arm around me and to run her hand over my belly, which is just barely starting to swell.

"How is little Princess Baby doing in there, anyway?"

"She's good," I murmur, though I can't help being a little chagrined. "Wish she'd lay off the nausea trigger a little bit, though. What does she even get from it?"

"We'll make her pay it back to us on her twenty-first birthday," Janeen says, grinning and giving me a big kiss on the cheek. "Make her barf so much she needs bathroom snacks to recover."

I laugh and then turn, shaking my head at her. "You need to stop calling the baby a she, Janeen," I say, grinning. "We still don't know, and you're going to confuse both me and yourself - and potentially the baby, if it ends up being a boy."

"I remain convinced," Janeen says, waving her hand at me as she leaves me alone in the bathroom. "She until proven otherwise! Besides," she shrugs, calling over her shoulder, "gender is a spectrum!"

I nod, conceding the point, and I turn to the mirror and grimace a little, and then look down at my belly. "What do you think, little baby," I murmur, running a hand over my little pot belly. "You're she until proven otherwise, while your dad, today..."

I sigh again and look at myself in the mirror, unable to muster a smile. Because even though I'm staying in the house, Jerome and Daniel are at court today, at Kent's public hearing for his plea deal. And even if in our justice system all those accused of crimes are innocent until proven guilty?

Today, Kent is pleading guilty.

Because I told him to.

"Well baby," I say, not really knowing if I'm speaking to myself or to the little lemon-sized human growing inside me, "let's just hope that this all goes well. And that I didn't just ruin all of our lives."