Fall For My Ex’s Mafia Father

Chapter 312

“Hey, Fay,” Ivan says, smirking at me as I cross the parking lot to him. His eyes sweep over me, as they usually do, as they didn’t yesterday. “I like your boots.”

“Thanks,” I say breezily, stepping close to him and unable to keep myself from grinning up into his face. “So glad you could make time for me today, Ivan.” I murmur. “Considering you were so busy last night.”

“Ahhh,” he says, the corner of his mouth pulling up into that smile that makes my stomach twist as he looks down into my face. “But it worked, didn’t it?”

I laugh, shaking my head at him. “So that’s what it was?” I ask, a little miffed but pleased to hear that he wasn’t just disinterested. “A tactic to get me to reach out to you?”

“Well,” Ivan says, turning his head a little to the side, “if you didn’t text me afterwards, it was me holding on to my pride and moving on with a very pretty brunette.” His smile deepens as I glare at him, unable to hide my jealousy. “But,” he continues, “since it did…”

Ivan lets his sentence trail off there, smiling down at me, shifting his weight to move even closer. And honestly, I forget to breathe as I look up into his eyes –

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“Ahem,” Jerome says, not even pretending to clear his throat and just saying the word. I jump a little bit but Ivan stays very cool, keeping his body close to mine as we both turn our heads to look at Jerome standing there, his arms folded, shaking his head at us.

hey Jerome,” Ivan says after a second, leaning away from me

I don’t think either of us thought that Ivan

was.

his mouth to answer, but

Ivan’s hand.

inward towards the stalls. “Come meet

when I turn to invite Ivan to come in I am surprised to see him standing right where I left him – about five feet away, in the middle of the

gesturing for him to

grinning at me and holding up

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out that Ivan is afraid. My eyes flick to Jerome, who stops about ten feet behind Ivan and he realizes it at the same moment that I do. “Oh my

step back and watching the dark stall warily. “Do

laugh, grabbing his hand. “It’s fine! He’s a

resisting my pull. “Seriously, Fay,” he says, all pretense dropping. “I am

and tugging harder until Ivan gives in and stumbles forward a few steps. “Big mafia boss,” I murmur, looking at him with