Fall For My Ex’s Mafia Dad
Chapter 257

I take a deep breath, confused about whether I want to indulge my rage or quell it.

Because that really, really pissed me off. How dare he use my pregnancy as a reason to keep me out of this? As if I'm some kind of time bomb that's going to go off in the middle of his heist and ruin all his plans. Pregnant or not, I'm perfectly capable of deciding what it is that I can and cannot do who the hell is he to make this choice for me!?

And also! If it's safety that's at risk, why does he get to put his life and his freedom on the line when I can't? We're both going to be parents at the end of this road - but I've got to keep myself safe?!

Even as these thoughts run through my head I'm aware of the flaws in them. But I don't let myself address those, not yet. Instead, I just stew in my anger, staring out at the sea for a long, long while.

I don't know how much time passes before a figure comes up on my right, slipping a blanket around my shoulders. I pull it around myself, surprised into awareness of how cold I was simply because it's so warm around me, but then as I look up to see who gave it to me I narrow my eyes and wish I'd pushed it away.

Because it's not Daniel, who I expected. It's Kent.

"Still mad?" he asks, slipping his hands into his pockets.

"If I wasn't freezing I'd throw this blanket into the ocean just to spite you."

"Don't do that," he sighs. "It's merino wool. It would be a shame to lose it to the sea."

"Why are you doing this to me?" I snap, spinning to glare at him. "Kent! I want to help! I can't believe you're cutting me out of what is essentially my deal - I'm the one who got this on the table!"

"I'm not cutting you out," he replies, glaring at me just a little, and I can tell he's holding back for the sake of mending fences. "I'm just letting you know, upfront, that there's no way I'm letting you on the front lines of this heist when you're days away from having a baby!"

"Pregnant people can do plenty of things," I counter, losing my temper and opening my mouth to list them. But Kent cuts me off.

"You can't even get on a plane at that point," he growls. "How would you even get to Monaco?"

"Oh please," I reply, narrowing my eyes at him. "Like you'd fly commercial for this."

Kent shrugs, conceding the point that whatever our entrance and exit to Monaco would be, we'll certainly be chartering private transport for the sake of discretion.

"I need you, Fay," Kent says, stepping forward and reaching for my face, though I flinch back. He sighs and lets his hand drop. "I need you in every step of planning this. The way you got me out of prison and then out of America - it was brilliant. You've demonstrated that you're a master strategist with an incredible capacity to put your plans in motion. I need that."

I shake my head at him, not buying it. "All this flattery," I say softly, staring at him with suspicion. "And yet, I hear a 'but' coming."

"But," he says, tilting his head and conceding the point. "One, you are not good on the spot," he says, holding up one finger.

My mouth falls open in protest and I step forward, ready to defend myself, but he just continues.

"And two," he glares at me, "you will be more pregnant than you think you will be at nearly nine months pregnant, Fay. You'll draw eyes wherever you go, and you will be miserable on your feet. This is not me underestimating you, this is me assessing the reality of the situation. We will have to move fast, and change plans on the dime, and maybe even have to run. You will not be able to do that."

I sigh sharply through my nose, considering that at least the second point might be right.

"Why do you say that I'm bad on the spot?" I ask, my feelings a little hurt alongside my confusion.

"Fay," he sighs, stepping closer, and I let him this time. Kent wraps an arm around me and puts a finger under my chin, tilting my face up to his. "You are good at so many things, but you were very wise to send Jerome out to get me while you waited on that boat." "I didn't just wait on that boat," I growl. "I had a very full morning, if you'll remember."

"A perfectly orchestrated morning," Kent replies, raising his eyebrows at me. "Every moment, practically every bite was planned. You had Fiona out doing all the unpredictable work while you and Daniel walked in and out of that house in half an hour." I shake my head, defensive - because it was so much more complicated than that -

"I'm not insulting you," he says softly. "It was brilliant, and maybe without recognizing it, Fay, you played to your strengths. You are good at putting together the complicated plan, but you didn't put yourself on the front line for a reason. You don't want to have to make snap decisions, you don't want to be the one pulling triggers."

"Even if you say it's not, this sounds like an insult, Kent," I say, hating him a little bit for just this moment. "These all sound like very admirable traits that you have."

He shakes his head slowly. "Any idiot can be on the front lines muscling their way through," he says quietly. "A very rare few stay in the background and pull the strings. That's what Bianci does. That's what you do."

"And you?" I ask, raising a single eyebrow at him. "Sounds like you flatter yourself as both."

He shakes his head at me. "You're better at this than me, Fay," he says quietly. "I just have more experience."

"Flattery," I say, rolling my eyes.

"It's not," he insists, tightening his fingers on my chin and making me look at him. "I built industries in America and ran a gang for a long time, but it landed me in jail. I got outwitted by Alden and Ivan of all people. Bianci would have seen that from miles away. You would have seen that from miles away."

"Yeah, but I didn't see it -"

"Because I didn't let you," he snaps before sighing and dropping his hand now, looking out at the sea and looking, of all things, ashamed of himself. "I treated you like a pet and a mistress for months, even when I knew what you were. And you told me - over and over again - that Ivan was telling you that something was going down. And I didn't listen. If I had treated you like an equal, explained things, let you turn your mind to it?" He shakes his head. "It would have all turned out different." "Well, then why won't you do that now?"

"I am letting you do that now," he says, turning to look at me again. "Fay, if you weren't pregnant when this is slated to go down, I'd have you in Monaco by my side. But that's not our reality right now."

"Convenient," I say, my tone dry. "Considering that you picked the timeline."

"You want to move it back?" he asks, looking at me with genuine interest. "Because Bianci said eight months - if you want to do this when we have a four-month-old at home -"

"No," I sigh, shaking my head and pulling my blanket tighter around myself, gritting my teeth. "You're right. I want it done before the baby comes. Can we make it even sooner?"

"We can try," he says, reaching out a hand for me. "If there's a way to get it done sooner...we can think about that. But planning something like this takes time, Fay," he shakes his head. "You know that. We have a lot to learn."

"I'm aware," I say, my voice dry as I slip a hand into his. I pull Kent closer to me and he willingly moves to my side as I look up at him. "I'm not agreeing to this, Kent. I'm still going to fight you on it - if there's a way for me to be helpful there and not a hindrance, I'm going."

"Okay," he says quietly, nodding to me, though I see him fighting a smile. Because he knows he's won.

"Stupid baby," I sigh, looking down at my stomach and running a hand over it. "Getting in the way of all my plans."

"Don't call the baby stupid, love," Kent murmurs, wrapping an arm around my shoulder and pressing a kiss to my head. "Remember, we like the baby."

"Well, this baby had better be cute," I mutter, frustrated.

"We'll like this baby even if it's really ugly," Kent sighs, his voice happy. "Because then it will develop a great personality to compensate."

"What would you know about that," I snap, turning my face up to glare at him. "You've been gorgeous your whole life."

"I know," he says with a grin, tugging me back towards the house. "It's great. I'm boring as hell, and people still want to hang out with me."

"You can hang out with me, baby," I whisper falsely towards my stomach. "Not with this boring, arrogant idiot who calls himself your dad -"

Kent bursts into laughter and I can't help smiling a little myself, even if I am still disappointed.

Because, well, even if being pregnant does get in the way?

I've still got a heist to plan with Kent at my side this time. And I'm going to enjoy the hell out of that. Quietly I take his hand and squeeze it, and he squeezes it right back. Because this time, finally, we're in it together.