Fall For My Ex’s Mafia Father

Gifts

Chapter 4 – Free Yourself–1

“I’m just saying,” Janeen says, shrugging as she slides an omelet out onto a plate. “It’s a red flag when a guy doesn’t want to meet her friends and family. I mean, who even is this Daniel guy, anyway?”

I stop dead on the stairs hearing these words, just three steps away from the kitchen. I stay still, hoping to hear what Janeen and dad really think.

“I’m just saying,” dad says, shrugging in his chair at the table. “I think you should trust Fay a little more. She’s a clever girl.” He turns and looks directly at me. “Aren’t you, kid?”

I scowl, embarrassed to be caught eavesdropping. I take the final steps down into the kitchen and give dad a kiss on the cheek, sitting down in the chair next to him. “I’m smart, but I’m not a kid anymore. Time to update the nickname.”

“Never,” he says, smiling at me. “You’re my kiddo forever.”

Janeen brings me a plate of eggs, patting me on the head. Even though we’re not related by blood, she treats me just as any condescending big sister would. I came to live with David and Janeen when David married my mom.

Even after mom died in her car accident only two years after the wedding, David never gave me any reason to think of him as anything besides my dad. I love him just as much as any blood relation. I have no memories of my biological dad and no idea

where he is.

– Free Yourself–2

is a great guy.” He looks at me, then, a little pity in his

our Fay baby! You deserve passion in your relationship, as well as respect and…book talk, or whatever you do.” She

very happy,” I murmur, finishing my eggs as quick

with me,” Janeen says, reaching out and taking my hand. I can tell that she’s trying to make amends. “I’m not working tonight, and we can go have some

has been a night owl, working at various clubs as a stripper. Not cheap sleezy places, either, but really high–end ones where they respect her work as a kind of art. She’s very talented, and

your blood flowing.” She dances in her chair, showing us some of her moves, ending with

laugh. Janeen has such an effervescent personality, it’s hard not to want to

too much.

shoulder as I head into the living room. He

stopping Janeen from doing precisely what she wants, so why not go along with it? “Besides,” he had said. “As long as she respects herself, why should I care if she dances in a thong or a tutu? Let her

the memory, grateful, again, for such a

idea that I should get more in touch with my body and my instincts. My cheeks grow red and I find myself – bizarrely – typing Kent Lippert into the search

dad watches every night calls Lippert the Mafia King, always detailing his dirty deeds, but the sites I’m looking show him standing in front of a

reviews of his many businesses, with employees suggesting that he’s a great boss. Still another…god, is that

hair in my hands, passively starting to braid it as I look through these results, trying to match it with

looking at?” Janeen says, flopping onto the

I say, snatching at it. “Janeen, give it back!”