Fall For My Ex’s Mafia Father

Chapter 275

I mean, I didn’t get into any of the strategic books that Kent recommended for me, but my mind is starting to mull over some of the things that Kent said last night, especially now that I’ve got a little espresso in me to fuel my thoughts.

And while this little sundress is very cute, and fashionable, and the perfect dress for a day of summer shopping…it also feeds into everything Natalia says about me that makes me feel bad about myself.

Natalia already talks to me like I’m a stupid little girl whose role in this family is strictly as an ornament, if that. In many ways she looks at me as less than that – as a weight, a detriment, someone who cannot take care of Daniel (which she implies is my job) and a silly little nothing who distracts the men from their duties.

So showing up to breakfast today in sunflowers and ribbons?

It only reinforces what Natalia already thinks of me.

Very suddenly, I shake my head and re–fold the dress, moving to my wardrobe to tuck it away for a better moment. Then I sort through the selection of clothing that Kent keeps stocked in my wardrobe at all times, pulling out a simple pair of tight black cigarette pants, a black belt, and a form–fitting green turtle neck

Chapter 275

favorite pair of comfortable black

2/4

apparently tucked under the clothes that Kent sent. Curious, I pick it up and flip it open, laughing when I see a printed real estate listing for a ridiculously gorgeous, ridiculously expensive flat in Paris overlooking the Sienne. At the top of

the little folder away on my bed, shaking my

now that he’s getting

That done, I apply very simple, very serious makeup

on my shoes and smirking

has been expanded recently to make room for our guests. Daniel is the only one facing the kitchen door and his eyes go wide

3/4

Chapter 275

– in a move I’ve never been brave enough to make before I stop by the table of old

pocket of my tight pants as I ask how they are and talk playfully with them about their plans for the day as

says – an uncle on Kent’s side, though. I don’t know his name and feel guilty about it, after all these months. I make a mental note to ask Daniel. “You come see us more often, okay?” He gently pats my arm before tapping his cheek, asking for

‘em dead,” says Anthony, another of the

last – the eldest –