Fall For My Ex’s Mafia Father

Chapter 85

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I bite my lip eagerly. “We could keep it simple, start small. Figure out how to get our passports, or get convincing passports made. Then, the next thing we need is cash. I have nothing,” I say, but then my eyes catch on the million–dollar diamond I’m wearing on my hand. “Or, well, I have some of this jewelry his dad gave me.”

He frowns at the ring on my finger, remembering–of course – that it was his mother’s. I quickly put my hand over it.

“Not this one,” I say gently. “This one, we keep. But there are

sapphires, other jewels. Just like… sitting in my room.”

He pauses for a moment, looking at me seriously, and then he

whispers his answer.

“Okay, Fay,” he says, very, very quietly. “I’m not saying let’s go. I’m just saying… let’s look and see. We’ll look into how hard it is to get the documents. Then, once we know more… we’ll talk again.”

I can’t help but give a little squeal of joy, and he smiles at my

excitement.

“Okay!” I exclaim. “Um, I don’t even have a passport though–do

you think we can get one?”

He considers it for a moment, opening his mouth to answer, when

Chapter 85

suddenly the door to the patio flies open, banging hard against

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stone wall of the house. I gasp, turning sharply to look at Kent, standing there, seething, his hands clenched in fists at his side.

Daniel and I go silent, frozen in our

Kent says, striding

between us. “Is this?”

recognize it.

Shit. Shit.

that Fiona had given me for Alden, that cryptic poem inside. It’s been opened – clearly, Kent has read it – but it still has the tape on it, the same I used

of the

eyes from Kent’s hand

just grabs my arm, pulling me up out of my chair and along with him back into the house. He’s angry, of course, but his grip doesn’t hurt me. He’s still firmly in control.

Daniel calls after him, coming into the house

firmly at his son.

Chapter 85

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seeing the look

once more.

her go- don’t do this –”

kept your woman in line,”

“then I wouldn’t have to do this.”

that, he again storms forward, dragging me

kitchen. Towards that small

cold when I see

finding my voice, throwing my weight

heels into the tiled floor.

me, continuing to move forward, tugging me once so

balance and

the door – heading down

the little dim