Fall For My Ex’s Mafia Father

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Both Kent and Daniel step forward to do the job but, realizing it simultaneously, they both stop and glare at each other. I can’t help the laugh that bursts out of me at this. “Seriously!” I say, turning my head away and shaking it. “It’s just a zipper!”

But then there’s the warmth of a body close behind me and I feel a tug at the fabric of the dress as someone zips me up. When I turn, I’m surprised to see Kent standing close. He stays there for a second – perhaps a second too long, from Daniel’s perspective, since Daniel angrily clears his throat.

Kent steps back, then, and looks me over from head to toe. “Shoes?” he asks, slipping his hands into his pockets.

I nod and spin around, looking for them, and I hear a little frustrated sigh come from Kent’s direction.

“Would you chill out?” I scold, smirking at him briefly before I spot the five–inch stilettos under my vanity, their red bottoms catching my eye. I quickly sit on my stool and pull them on before standing up and spreading out my arms. “Well?” I ask. “Do I pass muster?”

serious. Kent has dressed me in a lot of different styles before, but never one that made me

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way down my body, the delicate invisible corseting below it giving me an incredible hourglass shape. The skirt of the dress spills to the floor but there’s a slit up the right side that goes almost to my waist, though there’s enough fabric in the circle of my skirt that you barely notice

raises his eyebrows at me, clearly impressed, and gives a thumbs up, but Kent does nothing. He just stands there, looking at

walking out of the room, snapping

but Daniel stops me with a hand on my arm. “Forgetting something?” he asks, and I frown up at him, confused. Then, from his

then I sigh, putting out my left hand and

quietly, keeping my hand in his when

smiling up at

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and we walk out of the room hand–in–hand just as a shout comes from below.