Fall For My Ex’s Mafia Dad
Chapter 234

I give the head of the Bianci family a slow, leisurely smile. "Wherever you wish to begin, sir," I say quietly, passing the gambit back to him. I want to know more about what he wants before I tell him what I want. "We are simply grateful to be guests in your home." Don Bianci smirks at me, obviously aware that we're not here for a pleasant chat with family. "All right, little donna," he murmurs. "I wish to know why your family has suddenly stopped communicating with me, even though we have a set of deals in place." "My father is dead," I say simply, keeping my face impassive.

"I am aware," Bianci murmurs, raising his eyebrows. "A great scandal. I am sorry for your loss, but the newspapers report that you were lucky enough to have breakfast with him that morning. Such a blessing, to have those final moments with your father." "We weren't close," I reply, holding his gaze, feeling Daniel looking at me now. "I don't know how much you know of my history -"

"I know everything about your history, Fay Alden," the Don cuts in smoothly, again looking me up and down.

I smirk a bit. Because he certainly doesn't know everything. I tuck my hands behind my back now, consciously avoiding touching my stomach. "Then there's no need to tell you that my mother raised me away from my father and I knew nothing of my connection to the Alden until earlier this year."

"And this mother," Bianci snaps. "Where is she?"

I narrow my eyes a little as he rests an elbow on the arm of his chair, tilting his head and propping it - just lightly- on his fingertips.

"My mother is dead," I reply quietly. But...why is he asking that? If he knows all of my history, certainly he already knows this. Still, I pushed forward. "I haven't had a mother since I was a child."

Slowly, Bianci nods before turning his eyes to his grandson.

"Daniele," he says, his words still directed at me, "I hear is newly adept in the shipping industry. This must be convenient for you, considering your recent inheritance."

"A convenient turn of fate," I say, allowing a smile to play at my lips. "He's good at it, though I'm not sure he enjoys the work."

Bianci raises an eyebrow at Daniel, inviting him to speak.

"I wouldn't count on my continuing in the industry, nonno," Daniel replies, his voice casual and a little disinterested. "I'm not sure that it speaks to my passions."

"And what are your passions, Daniele," the Don asks, his voice harder now.

Daniel just shrugs and looks away, I think a little frustrated. "I'm still figuring that out."

The Don scoffs a little, raising his head and flicking his fingers towards Daniel dismissively. "You and Gio," he murmurs, shaking his head and glancing towards his other grandson. "Not understanding what's actually important in life..."

I shift my eyes to Gio in time to see him rolling his eyes briefly skyward. And honestly, I have to admit myself confused - because he's not dressed in medical scrubs for fashion, right? Is his grandfather honestly disappointed in him for being a doctor or a nurse?

I mean Daniel I get - Daniel's a professional student at this point, which I don't mind, but I see how in a traditional Italian family this might be non-preferred. But a son in the medical field?

My brows knit together just a tiny bit.

"And you, Fay," Bianci says, turning my attention back to him. "You have a degree in...psychology, yes?"

I nod in confirmation, a little impressed. I mean, it's not like that would be difficult to discover, but this man clearly has done his homework.

Silence hangs steady in the room as the old man studies me, waiting for me to break under his gaze. But I just wait, patient. And then, quietly, darkly - he begins to laugh.

"All right, little donna," he murmurs, repeating the nickname. "Stop playing coy. Tell me what it is you did."

"All right," I say with a nod, pleased to see him stop dancing around the niceties. But still - I'm not going to confess my crimes that easily. I still want to make him to tell me what he knows. "Where do you want me to begin?" "My son," Bianci says coldly. "Where is he?"

I raise my brows a bit because...Alessi is downstairs, is he not?

But Daniel picks up on it faster than I do. "We don't know where dad is," he says quietly, sticking to our story, which I'm sure Bianci sees right through. "We fled America when we figured that the police would lock down our -"

Bianci flicks his hand again at Daniel, silencing him, returning his eyes to me. And I watch him, curious at his decision to call Kent his son. Because does he actually feel that way about him, this child he raised, to whom he gave his daughter? Or is it some kind of verbal ploy to make us think he cares more about Kent than he really does?

I truly don't know. I can't tell.

"Kent is safe," I say quietly, but then I press my mouth shut, letting it end there.

Bianci smirks a little, letting me keep my secrets on this issue, probably because he already knows more than he's letting on.

"If you have not come to return my boy to me," the Don murmurs, leaning forward to look at me now, his tone letting me know that he's coming to the end of his patience with my game. "Then what is it that you have to offer?"

"A great deal," I reply, raising my chin a bit, knowing that it's time to show my cards. "Not the least of which is a Bianci great-grandchild. Your first, if I'm not mistaken." I unlink my hands from behind my back and let one drift to my baby bump. "A blessing," he says with a nod, his words serious. "But not enough to account for the loss of the Alden connection, if it is truly gone."

"I am the Alden connection now," I say, allowing my voice to sharpen a bit.

"Are you?" he asks, a smirk again on his lips.

"And the Lippert," I say, assured. "When my father had Kent arrested he stole his industries, both legitimate and illegitmate. And then, with my father's untimely death, they all passed to me."

The Don's smirk deepens as he takes me in. And though I'm sure he knew all of this to begin with, I can tell that he likes hearing me say it. "So," he murmurs, "you are suddenly a very powerful young woman, Fay Alden. Quite by chance." "No," I reply, my voice low. "Not by chance."

He raises his eyebrows, inviting me to continue.

"I took it all," I say.

"So, you killed him?"

I don't answer, just hold his gaze. I know better to admit my crimes so blandly; but still, I want him to know.

The Don's smile deepens even further. "And why are you telling me all of this, Alden?" he says, and I don't miss that he drops my first name, addressing me as he would the head of any other family. "Why come all the way to Italy, to my home, to lay it out so plainly? Are you seeking to renew the connection between our families, though your power now rivals my own?"

"No, Don Bianci," I say quietly, leaning forward and looking him in the eye. And then I pause, just to make sure that he's listening.

When I see the corners of his eyes crinkle with interest, I say what I came here to say.

"I came here today to give it all to you."