Fall For My Ex’s Mafia Father

Chapter 290

I drink with him, of course, but I start to notice that when I’m on my second drink Daniel’s on his fourth. And on my third, his seventh. Daniel’s bigger than me, of course – he can handle more than I can – but still, I start to see his eyes go half–shut as the night passes and his words slur together. I don’t chide him, realizing that this is what he wants, perhaps needs, after our stressful evening.

Daniel is…sensitive, I know. And while this is my first time at this “maybe my dad will get whacked for power” rodeo, it’s something he’s dealt with all his life. And perhaps the strain on him…I guess it makes sense, in a way. That he’s just so sick of it that all he wants to do is wipe it from his mind.

And there is something about it that I find tempting – the idea that I could wipe it all out, too, for the next few hours, and face none of it. But there’s something else in me that wants to stay sharp, that isn’t finished with the night.

Chapter 290

And as I see Daniel’s phone, resting on the bar,

2/4

continuing to light up with text after text, I realize what it is.

“Give me that,” I say, reaching for the phone as Daniel signals the bartender for another round.

suggests lightly, waving a dismissive hand. “Fuck Kent. Fuck

murmur, entering Daniel’s password (which I obviously have memorized) and clicking open his texts to find at lest

type out a

Daniel and I went out for drinks to blow off steam. We’re safe. We just…don’t want

pleased when a text comes right back.

right. Come home tonight. I want

Chapter 290 safe.

3/4

vague, and then slide

I look up to realize that he’s been watching me. “Seriously, fuck Kent. He’s ruining our lives. Why do you even

him a bit. “He’s your dad.”

dick,” Daniel insists, and I laugh, shaking my head. “What,” Daniel continues,

arms and studying him. “But… I admit that I am less willing to talk shit on your dad than I used to

Daniel murmurs, sighing ruefully and taking a too–large

“”