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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the house. I gasp, turning sharply to look at Kent, standing there, seething, his hands

and I go silent, frozen in our seats. This is bad.

striding forward and putting

hand between us. “Is this?”

recognize it.

Shit. Shit.

for Alden, that cryptic poem inside. It’s been opened – clearly, Kent has read it – but it still has the tape on it, the

of the desk.

with fear, I raise my eyes from Kent’s hand to hist face. I don’t say

and along with him back into the house. He’s angry, of course, but his grip doesn’t hurt me.

coming into the house as

says, turning to look firmly at his son. “You

Chapter 85

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his tracks, seeing the look on his father’s

tries once more.

let her go- don’t do this

stay here. If you kept your woman in line,”

wouldn’t have

forward, dragging

kitchen. Towards that small white

when I

voice, throwing my weight back,

tiled floor. “Please, no!”

continuing to move forward, tugging

lose my balance and have to stumble

we’re through the door – heading down

little dim hallway,