Fall For My Ex’s Mafia Dad
Chapter 266

"I'm sorry about that," Ivan murmurs, shaking me out of my stupor a little bit. He keeps his eyes on the road. "I didn't expect her to be....that cold." "Seriously, Ivan," I breathe, shaking my head at him, holding the little puppy on my lap, close to my belly. "What the f**k was that?"

"Do you have any room to talk?" he asks dryly, glancing at me. "Sending that knockoff Lippert to the coffee shop to lure me away -"

"That was business," I snap, rolling my eyes, sick of it. "This was..." I shake my head.

"Well, it was personal to me," he throws back at me, but then he sighs. "But. Yeah. I guess springing your dead mother on you is...next level."

"How did you even meet her -" and then I go a little still as I realize something. "Ivan, have you known this whole time that she's ali-"

"No," he says, abrupt, turning to frown at me. "I wouldn't have done that to you, Fay. Not when I thought that we meant something to each other. I would have told you immediately."

I sigh, sinking back into my seat, believing him. I take a minute, working over the thousand questions in my mind. "So?" I ask quietly. "How did you find her?"

"She found me," he responds dryly. "Apparently, she's been keeping an eye on you, on this whole situation. She figured out my connection to it and," he shrugs, "asked me if I wanted to team up."

"So, are you like, part of the FBI now?" I ask, confused.

He shakes his head. "We're sort of doing this freelance. Your mom - she is...passionate about this project. Really, crazy dedicated. So much so that she burned some bridges at the Bureau, got placed on temporary leave herself."

"So, you two are just like...vigilante cowboys, out here seeking justice?" I ask, letting precisely how stupid I think that sounds bleed into my tone. Ivan narrows his eyes but he doesn't say anything. "What were you trying to get out of this?" I ask quietly. "Like you're going to show up back in the USA with Bianci's head on a platter and what, they're all going to applaud you and give you your jobs back?"

"Kind of," Ivan snaps, turning those narrowed eyes on me now. "Plus, I get the justice I'm looking for."

I turn my head a little at this, considering him. Because, actually, Ivan patently does not get justice out of this. For all I know, his vendetta is against Kent, and Kent alone. So, why would he team up with my mother, who wants to take down the mafia as a whole? What did she promise him?

But I don't bother to ask, not only because I don't think that Ivan's going to give me a straight answer, but because I don't want him to know that I'm seeing beyond his lie that taking Bianci down will satisfy the vengeance he's held onto since childhood. Luckily, the little puppy gives me an opportunity to turn the conversation when he lifts his head and gives a sad little howl.

"Aww, baby," I murmur, stroking a finger across his head. "Poor thing, kidnapped and scared, away from your family."

"He's probably just hungry," Ivan mutters, looking at the dog from the corner of his eye.

"And who's fault is that," I coo, my focus still on the puppy. "If someone hadn't hauled him into a vane side of the road -"

"If someone had just dropped him -"

"Don't listen to your kidnapper," I whisper to the puppy, ensuring that I'm loud enough for Ivan to hear me. "Starvation techniques are part of Stockholm syndrome -"

"Oh my god," Ivan sighs, slowing suddenly and swerving into a service station.

"What?" I ask, surprised and a little freaked out. I do not need more surprises today. "What's happening?"

"I'm not going to let you accuse me of starving the puppy, Fay," Ivan growls, rolling down his window a little and waving the surprised attendant away from the pump, beckoning him towards the car and speaking in swift, near-fluent Italian. I blink in surprise. Seriously, am I the only one who doesn't speak Italian anymore?

The attendant looks between us, shrugs, and then heads into the gas station.

"What's going on?" I ask, watching him go. But then I start to laugh when, a few seconds later, the man comes back out of the station with a wrapped sandwich and a bottle of water. He comes around to Ivan's side of the window as Ivan pulls out about ten euros and hands them over, waving away the offer for change. Then he pulls forward into a little parking spot, though he doesn't turn off the car.

"Here," he says, offering me the sandwich.

"Thank you," I say, my voice bright because I'm honestly touched. He didn't have to do this. I lift the puppy up and hold him out to Ivan.

"What?" Ivan says, confused, leaning away a little bit.

"Take him," I say, holding him out with more insistence.

"Why?!"

"Because," I laugh, plopping the puppy down in his lap. "I can't hold him and feed him at the same time - and I want the food to come from me so he loves me."

Ivan grumbles but lets the puppy stay in his lap as I smile and start to unwrap the sandwich. The puppy looks up at Ivan with worried eyes as Ivan continues to lean way from him, looking at him warily.

"You can pet him, you know," I say dryly. "He won't bite."

"How would you even know that, Fay," Ivan snaps, "you just met this dog."

"Because he's just a cute little baby," I coo, leaning forward with a piece of chicken from the sandwich, offering it to the pup. He sniffs it and then eagerly bites, taking it from my hand in his teeny tiny teeth. I laugh, offering him more, and when I glance up at Ivan I see that he can't help but smile a little bit too.

"Okay," Ivan sighs, reaching out a finger to stroke the puppy's head. "He is cute."

"And he was hungry," I say softly. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Ivan replies, his voice gentle. We continue like this for a minute or two, me giving the puppy a snack, Ivan lightly stroking his head. And as we do, my mind turns back to my mother, and the strange events of today.

"Ivan," I say, my voice quiet. I don't look up at him. "Does she...I mean, why does she hate me?"

"What?" he breathes.

"My mom," I say, swallowing against the thickness in my throat. "Did she say anything? About...why she left? Why she didn't..."

"Fay," he says, and I look up at him, because he sounds so sad for me. He shakes his head. "Your mom - I think she was damaged by your relationship with your dad. I don't think - it wasn't good, Fay. I've spent a lot of time with her at this point, and I think there's a great deal of trauma there. I don't think she could have stayed with you - it became...an obsession. To take them all down."

I look down then, my heart breaking a little bit. Because at least when I lost her before, to a car crash? At least then she didn't choose to leave me behind.

But now...

I clench my jaw, but I can't help the tears that fill my eyes.

"Hey," Ivan says, and I look up when I feel a hand on my shoulder. Ivan slowly shakes his head at me, and the puppy peers at me closely, shifting in Ivan's lap. "It has nothing to do with you, Fay - nothing to do with who you are. If she couldn't love you, if she had to go...it wasn't your fault."

And I nod, because I know it's true - it's the only thing that makes sense - I was just a kid. And from what it sounds like, she may not have ever even wanted to have me - or wanted to marry my father-

But god damn it, it still hurts. Tears start to drip down my cheeks.

And Ivan, good guy that he is, reaches out to softly cup my face in his palm.