Fall For My Ex’s Mafia Dad
Chapter 99

I make myself a little espresso before heading up the stairs because, if I'm going to be up at 4:30 in the morning, I'm at least going to be caffeinated. And then the hours pass more quickly than I thought they would. I shower, fix my hair, and change into the clothes that are delivered promptly at six. I look curiously at the blue-and-white flowered dress and sweet pair of strappy tan sandals that Kent selected for me today, a little disappointed that it's not riding clothes. He's certainly not sending me to the stables, but where on earth am I going in this? I'm ready for the day a little before 6:30, though, and so I grab my phones - both of them - and flick through the messages from Janeen, Daniel, and Ivan. Janeen's are the most cheerful, just little updates on her life and pictures from the shore house. I'm a little jealous when I see those, wanting to be there with her and hoping I get to go soon.

The ones from Ivan...I just skim, not wanting to address the feelings they rise in me. There's nothing big there anyway - just casual greetings and asking if I'm okay. I close them quickly, not wanting to reply. Not now, at least.

Daniel's texts, however...I grimace a little when I see all fifty-eight of them. They start casually enough, but by the end I can see that he's flipping out a little bit, anxious to know where I am but then also...well, a little mean when he figures out that I'm with his dad instead of with him. I sigh, tossing the phone back onto the desk and wondering what the hell I'm going to do about it.

But then the little clock down the hall gives a tiny chime, as it always does at the half hour, and I head downstairs, ready to meet my fate.

I'm surprised at how much the kitchen has filled in the past two hours, but not displeased. I'm starting to like the buzz and the energy of the place in the morning. I move quickly to the espresso machine, wanting another little jolt to start my day, and the trio of older gentlemen in the corner all give me friendly smiles and raise their cups to me. I smile at them and wave back, pleased that they're starting to know and acknowledge me now.

My espresso in hand, I head to me and Daniel's little table. He's not there yet, but I know I can wait for him. Jerome, doing dishes in the kitchen, gives me a little wink to say hi and I smile at him as the kitchen door opens and Daniel enters the room.

My smile falls a little as I get a look at him when he sits down across from me. He looks - well, he looks like shit, quite frankly, unwashed with dark circles under his eyes. I lean forward a little and sniff, realizing that he smells like...whiskey? I don't know. Some kind of strong spirit.

"What," Daniel snaps. "Do you have a problem with the way I look?"

"Ew, Daniel," I say, leaning back in my chair and raising my espresso cup to my lips. "That's a nasty little tone for so early in the morning."

Daniel glowers at my response, a little pissed - I realize that I don't gasp and apologize as I would usually do. I glance quickly at Jerome, who watches us from the corner of his eye, suddenly grateful for his warning. Because if I hadn't had his little tip, I'd certainly be thrown off and probably bowled over by Daniel's anger. But now? I can stand my ground, just a little.

"Where were you yesterday, Fay?" Daniel growls, changing the subject so that he's on more solid ground in this fight he's determined to have. "I was so worried - I looked everywhere for you."

"Daniel," I say, sighing and looking down at my cup as I place it down on the table, trying very hard to walk the fine line between refusing to be ashamed of my choices and wanting to be kind to him. I sigh and look up evenly into his eyes. "Don't you know where I was? Didn't you figure it out?"

Daniel stares at me, then, his whole face going red as he clenches his teeth. I freeze in my surprise, my eyes going wide. Never-ever - have I seen Daniel lose his temper like this. He's usually so even - controlled, in his own way, like his dad. But as he glares at me, shaking his head a little bit, his hands splayed wide and tense on the table. I can see that he's about to burst.

I open my mouth, desperate to say something, to break the tension, looking around a little frantically, when I suddenly see Kent striding over to us.

Daniel looks up at his father, transferring his rage to him now, but Kent just looks evenly down at his son. Not angry, not responding to his son's temper, just perfectly calm.

"Get it together, Daniel," Kent says, his tone unwavering but also not unkind. "Don't air your dirty laundry at the breakfast table."

And, to my shock, it works. I watch Daniel reel himself back in, almost physically, tucking his emotions away somewhere deep inside of myself, his face turning back to its normal color and becoming again passive. And while I'm glad that he's not going to flip out on me, the therapist within me wails, a little, to see how practiced Daniel is at tucking those emotions away.

Because it looks like it's something he does on the daily. And one day, all of those emotions are going to come out. I reach forward, then, taking his hand, looking at him with a great deal of empathy in my eyes. And Daniel leans back in his chair, staring down at himself, looking...just, so defeated.

"Good," Kent says, patting him on the shoulder and turning back to the galley. "I'll get you two some breakfast." And then he walks away.

"Daniel," I begin, as soon as he's out of earshot. "I never meant to -"

"But you did, Fay," Daniel says, looking up at me, and my heart breaks to see that his eyes are lined with tears. "Like everyone else - you took his side."

"I'm still on your side," I try to assure him, shaking my head earnestly. "I can do both -"

"No," he sighs, slipping his hand from beneath mine. "You can't. Because his side is not my side."

I sigh, nodding, wanting to listen rather than correct. But Daniel doesn't say anything else, just stares down at himself while we wait in silence for Kent to bring our food. When Kent does bring our food, I smile up at him, eager to break the tension at the table, but he just looks impassively at us as he slides the plates onto the table.

"All right?" he asks, slipping his hands into his pockets and looking between us.

Daniel just nods, not moving or saying anything otherwise, and I nod too, still looking up at Kent.

"Okay then," Kent says, turning swiftly away from us. I blink at him a little in shock and then call his name out after him. Kent pauses for a second and then comes back to stand at the table, looking down at me, his face blank.

"Um," I say, suddenly awkward under his stare. Where was the man I was laughing with this morning? Who held me tight in his arms all night? "What am I supposed to do today?" "What?" he asks, apparently confused.

"You sent this dress," I say, gesturing towards it. "I mean - if you don't have anything planned, you usually send riding clothes so I can go to the stables. So, am I going somewhere today...?"

Kent stares at me for a second and I feel...well, I feel a little stupid under his gaze. And I absolutely hate it. I'm starting to frown up at him when he replies.

"Do whatever you want, Fay, I don't care," Kent says, giving me a bored little shrug. "I have no tasks for you. If you want to go to the stables, you have spare riding clothes in your room. Wear those."

My mouth falls open a little as Kent turns without another word and walks away.

"Not so great, is he," Daniel murmurs, looking at me from beneath lowered brows. "Once you've given him all he wants and he no longer has any reason to be nice to you."

I stare sadly at Daniel as I realize what he's saying. And that, frankly, he might be right.

But I dismiss the thought, squaring my shoulders and sitting up to look down at my breakfast. "Let's just eat, okay?" I say, picking up my fork and starting to scoop up some eggs. "Can we just be kind to each other? And have a nice breakfast?" Daniel takes a deep breath then and sits up as well, grabbing his own fork. "Whatever you say, Fay," he murmurs, digging in as well.