Fall For My Ex’s Mafia Father

Chapter 277

Jerome hesitates, looking towards the kitchen, but I grab him by the arm. “Oh, come on,” I say, pushing him towards the garage. I know Jerome has access to the car keys and I want to get out of here before Natalia can come call my bluff. “Kent will let me take you.”

Jerome laughs at this, but he lets me push him. “What am I, some Ken doll you guys trade around for the day?”

“Precisely,” I confirm as we pass into the garage and he snags the keys to the Lexus from the key cage. I grin at him over the top of the car as we open our doors. “Want to buy me breakfast, Ken? This…” I hold up my sad little semi–crushed croissant, “isn’t cutting it anymore.”

“You got it, Barbie,” Jerome quips, winking at me and climbing into the car. I grin and do the same, closing my door behind me.

Once Jerome and I finish our breakfast – he takes me to a place downtown where they serve a full English breakfast, something we’ll never get in an Italian house – and we get back in the car totally stuffed, I know precisely where I want to go.

to it, but I know what

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a little bit when I direct him to our next stop, but he doesn’t ask questions. Instead, he just drives me up to the front of the house and gets out to lean against the car and watch my back as I climb up the steps and ring the

a minute later,

giving my step–mother a little smile in response to her deep and hateful glare. “Is my

baby, thankfully, greets me more graciously with a giggle and a little flap of her hand in my direction. I can’t help but

at Tristin. “Can I come in

rolls her eyes at me and begins to

I call, putting out a hand to stop her. “Please, I’m sorry I know whenever

–

still trying to shut the door – but she’s only got one free hand, and I’ve got

buy that,” I say, holding my weight against the door until she gives up, glaring at me. “Please,” I say, my eyes wide and, I hope, showing my carnest desire to make piece. “Just… let me come in for a little bit. I’ll help! I’ll

H

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bit, keep him out of the electrician’s hair. But one hint of drama,” she says, pointing a finger up in my face, “and you’re