Fall For My Ex’s Mafia Father by Caroline Above Story
Chapter 0169

Chapter 0169

I lay back on my bed for...way too long. Just laying there, frustrated, staring at the ceiling.

I am also exhausted — I know this by the fuzz that I feel in my brain, the lethargy taking control in my limbs, and my very slightly grumpy mood. It’s been...one hell of a 48 hours, if I'm being honest with myself. From my very tense movie night with Daniel, to...everything yesterday, in the stables with Kent. And then last night, with Ivan?

I groan, my head spinning to think that that all happened in such quick succession. And frankly, I haven’t gotten much sleep throughout all of it — at least not the deep, peaceful sleep, alone in my cozy bed that I know my body is craving.

So I sigh, turning over and slipping under the covers, not even caring that I’m naked, intent on just getting some rest — But when I do put down my head, curling up on my side and pillowing my cheek against my hand...

Sleep eludes me. God damn it, but I just can’t stop thinking.

My eyes fly open and I purse my lips together, frustrated.

I've just got way too many unanswered questions on my mind. Sighing, I flop onto my back and stare at my old friend the ceiling again.

What the hell am I going to do? Or, beyond that, who do I even like?

It feels like a ridiculously sophomoric question — who do I like — when I'm trying to decide between the heads of two serious crime organizations. But it also feels incredibly important that I answer that question — right now — or I am going to be in one hell of a situation very soon.

Because I know myself — I know that I can’t juggle both of them, at least not for long. I don’t think it’s in me to be...what, polyamorous? Non-monogamous? Whatever the right term is, I know that I can’t handle it. Even though my whole life I've been a no-man kind of girl, I know in my heart that if I am romantically involved with someone, I want to be a one-man kind of girl. One person to whom I can really dedicate my affections and who makes me feel safe.

The question is: who is that? Kent? Or Ivan? Or, frankly, someone else? The Prince Charming I’ve always wanted, but who I just haven't found yet?

And what about Daniel, who is offering me...well, not romance. But a solid, happy life with my best friend. Less tumultuous and confusing than what Kent and Ivan offered, for sure. Daniel is right - some people get together for passion and then are disappointed when it fades. Daniel and I could have a very happy life together. What was so wrong with that?

I groan, not wanting to make a choice, and certainly not wanting this many choices. But despite my recalcitrance, I find myself... thinking about these options, turning them all over again and again in my mind.

Kent, with his dark intensity and that anger deep within him that blows on some sort of coal within me, coaxing it to flame. Kent, who lifts me as easily as if I’m a kitten and pulls me hard against his body, making me feel safe and warm and wanted in his arms.

Or at least I thought he wanted me, until he wouldn't look at me today...

I dismiss that, though — I knowing, deep down, that Kent wants me, which is an assurance I don't really have with Ivan. I have the proof_o Kent's desire -tyesseenitim Struggle aginstiit for weeks, seen him write up that ridiculous contract in order to build walls between us, walls designed to keep him safe, not me. And a very large part of me wants to break those walls down, to see what I find behind them all. A little thrill runs through me at the idea of Kent loosed from all of the restrictions he places on himself. Please read the original content at .

What would it be like to see him unbound. What would it be like to be with him, totally unleashed...

I blush, thinking of it, and then wonder — is that what I like a

Kent? Th challerat, bre than Kent Hoa oon feeling guilty, because frankly — it’s the opposite with Ivan. Please read the original content at .

I like lvan because — as far as I can tell — he gives me himself ona platter. There are no walls, n om mystery = just hignsi , funny self. Spi en I think of him, which I don’t do when I think of Kent — a smile that echoes the thousand times that lvan has made me laugh so hard my face aches. Please read the original content at .

Isn't that, really, what one is looking for? That kind of connection?