Ch. 11..15: Fall For My Ex’s Mafia Dad Chapter 11-15

Chapter 11

I'm laying back on my bed, all cried out, when I hear a knock at my door. I raise my head and groan inwardly What's next?

Before I can get up to answer it, the door creeks open a little. I sigh. No such thing as privacy in the Maña palace.

"Fay?"

My mouth drops open as I hear a voice that I recognize. I'm too shocked to speak as I see him peek around the door, smiling shyly.

"Are you okay, Fay?"

Daniel. I just stare at him.

He grimaces and comes into the room, pressing the door shut behind him. Then he leans back on it, staring at me, quirking his mouth into that sweet smile I used to love.

I groan and lay my head back on my pillows. "Go away, Daniel. We can talk about our engagement late

"Fay," he says, and I can hear the apology in his voice. I hear him come closer to the bed. "Come on, Fay he says. "It could be worse."

I open my eyes and glare at him. "Are you serious, Daniel?"

He shrugs and again gives me that charming smile, sliding his hands into his pockets. "I mean, at least we know we like each other."

"Like each other? Daniel you like -"

"Shh!" He puts a hand out towards me and looks anxiously at the door. "Seriously, Fay, watch what you say. We can't talk about that sort of thing here."

I glance at the closed door, confused. "Can they hear us in here?"

"My dad has ears everywhere," he murmurs. He turns back to me. "Are you mad at me?"

I sigh and sit up on the bed, feeling awkward. I never wanted to see Daniel ever again, let alone have this weird conversation about why I didn't want to be his mafia bride just because our parents promised us to each other.

"Daniel, I'm not mad at you," I say quietly. "It's just... I want to be married to someone who loves me. Not to someone who is only marrying me because of who my father is, and certainly not someone who -"

He gives me a worrying look and I sigh, watching my words.

"Someone who isn't attracted to me," I finish.

He sits hesitantly next to me on the bed, reaching out an arm to put around my shoulders. I shoot him a look, though, and he pulls his arm back.

"There could be good things about this, Fay," he says quietly. "Not all marriages work out anyway, and a test we know we like each other."

I look up at him, aghast. Is he serious?

"Are you actually on board with this, Daniel? Don't you want to marry someone you love?"

"I have to marry someone, Fay," he says, shrugging, his voice defeated. "This is not a world where what I want, personally, really matters. And with you, well. At least I know we get along, like the same things." I huff a laugh at this.

"I mean, you were really upset when we broke up!" Daniel continues, trying to be upbeat. "And I really am sorry about what happened in the coffee shop. But isn't it kind of weird that we found each other out there on our own anyway, and we were engaged the whole time? It's kind of like...fate."

"It's not fate, Daniel, it's fake," I say, looking at him with all of my pain showing. I can't help it - he was my first love, and he totally betrayed me, and now here he is asking me to jump right back in?

"I don't want a husband who is unfaithful to me," I say, spreading my hands out in emphasis. I lower my voice to a hiss. "And I don't want a husband who is into men, considering I'm a girl. Do you really want us to be in a fake marriage for the rest of our lives? Just because it's what your dad wants?"

"Please, Fay," Daniel says, his eyes skittering for the door. "I get that you're upset -"

I nod fervently at this.

"But seriously, that's not something we can talk about there. Please," he turns worried eyes to me and I'm surprised to see true fear in his face. "You've got to promise to keep it a secret."

"Daniel," I say, my heart going out to him. "Why is it such a big deal? It's the twenty-first century - it's so backwards to think that way about sexual orientation -"

"You don't understand," he says, shaking his head and looking down at the floor. "It's a different world here, Fay - that's why I spend so much time outside of it, at school, in the bookshops and coffee shops."

"This world, this family," he says, "all their values are 100 years old, maybe more. And tradition is everything, family is everything. If I don't get married, don't have kids to carry on the family line...not only will they consider me a failure, but it will cause massive chaos in the city as the other bosses try to grab what my dad has built. What I will inherit, whether I want to or not."

I study Daniel's perfect face, feeling for him. He's trapped and he knows it.

God, was I trapped now too?

"Do you know what they do to people like me, Fay?" Daniel asks, turning to look at me, agonized.

I shake my head no, not even wanting to imagine it.

"They beat the crap out of them," he says, "make them denounce their sexuality, who they are, and if they do it again, they...they mutilate them..."

He says quickly, shaking his head. "One of the other boss's sons. He shamed the family and..." Daniel shakes his head, unable to finish.

"Why don't you just leave, Daniel," I say, horrified for him. "Why not just run?"

He laughs, a harsh thing. "You think I haven't thought about it?" He shrugs. "They'll just find me, Fay. There's no getting out of it. I'm the sole heir to my father's game. If run, they'll find me. If I defy expectations about the kind of life I'm supposed to life - wife, family, taking a role in the organization, they'll...well, they'll straighten me out." His lips quirk at his little play on words. Mine do too.

"Daniel, this all sucks," I say, and he laughs at my understatement. "But is the solution really just to give them what they want? You know what your dad did to me today - made me give up everything I love, say horrible things to my family so that they'll let me go." Daniel looks at me, hopeless.

"Why give them what they want? Why don't we both run? Maybe together..."

He shakes his head, sighing. "You don't get it, Fay," he says. "You can't just disappear anymore. Your in his world now, there's no escape."

"My mom did it," I say quietly, realizing it myself for perhaps the first time. "She ran from my father, stayed away."

"Yeah," Daniel says, looking me in the eye. "And even after she died, the world came and found you, her daughter, and pulled you back in even when it couldn't take her. Don't you get it, Fay? Even if you got away, got married, had kids, had the life you wanted - my dad? Your dad? They would find your kids, and pull them in. There's no getting out."

My stomach drops like a stone when I realize that he's right. Even if my mother did get out - here I was, right back in it.

But still. I couldn't just give in. Maybe Daniel has been more beat down than me - or maybe just more realistic - but this isn't the life I want. I have to try. And in order to try, maybe this means I have to go deeper into this world. Study it. Figure out what makes it tick.

And then, when I find a loophole. I'll run.

"Well, Daniel," I say, taking his hand again and giving them a squeeze. "You may have given in, but I'm not sure I have yet. All I ask is that when the time comes, you don't stop me from leaving."

He looks at me, sadness etched on his face, and says nothing.

 

Chapter 12

I spend a restless night in my new room. When the clock reads 7:00, a knock comes at my door and it opens without waiting for a response. I glare and make a mental note to somehow get a lock. "Ah! You're awake." The same woman who dressed me last night bustles into the room. "You're already late, my dear."

"Seven?" I ask, looking at the clock again. "Seven is late?"

"The household starts at five," she says, coming over and starting to make the bed while I'm still in it.

When I head for the door in my pajamas, she makes a small noise of warning. I look back at her. "You'll want to change, my dear," she says. "This house dresses for its meals."

No one is downstairs in the hall when, dressed in tight fawn-colored pants and a silky green sweater, I walk down the stairs. I hear some noise at the end of the hall and push through the little door there.

I blink in surprise as I suddenly find myself in a gigantic kitchen filled with people. There are mismatched tables scattered all around and, behind a low wall, a restaurant-sized cooking range. From it wafts the scent of breakfast foods - sharp with onions and rich with butter.

"Fay!" Daniel says, spotting me from across the room. His face lights up. I can't help returning his smile, he's so cute.

"Hi," I say, my eyes scanning the busy room as I hurry over to him.

"Are you hungry?" he asks, giving me a happy grin and sitting back down in his place at a small table.

"Um," I say - honestly, when was the last time I ate - but my stomach answers for me, giving a big growl.

He laughs lightly as I sit. "Good, we'll get you something." He raises a hand to signal someone by the cooking range.

The room is just buzzing with people. Guys in suits drinking tiny cups of espresso, guards pass with guns - big guns - passing through, housekeeping staff on their way to their jobs.

Everyone is chatting happily, moving along in what is clearly a well-oiled machine.

"Wow, it's so busy in here," I say, staring around at everyone.

Daniel looks around and shrugs. "I guess."

At that moment, I'm shocked, again, to see Kent come around the corner from the cooking area carrying a big plate of food. I stare at the long white butcher's apron wrapped around his waist, the taut strings only serving to emphasize his trim figure, his broad shoulders.

When I realize I'm biting my lower lip while I look at him, I quickly spit it out and close my mouth.

"Good morning, Fay," Kent says, laying the plate in front of me. Shocked, I look back and forth from him to the plate, noting that his apron is spotted with grease.

"Did you...did you make this?" I ask. On the plate, scrambled eggs sit next to sausage and peppers, accompanied by a buttered slice of crusty Italian bread. It looks delicious. "Surprised?" Kent says. I whip my head up to see that he's smirking at me.

Truly, I am surprised.

"An Italian can't call himself a man if he can't cook his own breakfast," Kent says, glancing around the room with a proud smile. "A breakfast he'd feed his mother, at that."

"Do you want some coffee?" Daniel asks, leaning forward. I nod and he looks up at his dad. "She takes cappuccino. Is anyone free -"

"I'll see it's done," Kent says and I follow his eyes to a gigantic vintage Gaggia Orione espresso machine in the corner. My jaw drops - it's probably the most gorgeous thing I've ever seen. "Eat up, girl," Kent says, heading back to the kitchen.

I pick up my fork and eagerly start to eat, shaking my head at Daniel who just laughs.

A few minutes later, when my plate is half cleared, Kent comes back with a tiny cappuccino that he slides next to my plate. I give him a smile in thanks and take a sip.

It's absolutely delicious. I lean back in my chair, closing my eyes and savoring the taste of the bitter liquid that coats my tongue, balanced by the sweetness of the milk. These flavors are complimented, somehow, by...

I open my eyes and my mouth to ask what that extra flavor is, but I freeze when I see Kent staring down at me, his eyes somehow...hungry.

A blush spreads across my cheek and nose. Why is he looking at me like that?

"So you like it," Kent says, his voice low, possessive.

"I do," I say, hesitating. "Is there something extra..."

"Amaretto," he says. "Adds notes of apricot and bitter almonds."

"It's delicious," I say, holding his gaze while I raise my thumb to my mouth to wipe a little fleck of foam from my bottom lip.

He watches me do it.

"Good," he murmurs. "I don't want Alden to hear anything except that you were treated like a princess in my house."

I suddenly look back at my plate as I remember that I'm more captive than guest here. I'm fed good food not for my pleasure, but so that I'll give my "father" a good report when he comes to claim me.

"It's almost as good as my dad's breakfast," I murmur, suddenly angry. At Kent, but also at myself. For forgetting.

I feel a finger on my cheek, firmly turning my face back towards the Mafia King. "You only have one father now, Fay. You have no 'dad.' Though if you're really missing it," he smirks cruelly at me here, his voice slow and luxurious, "you can always call me daddy." My jaw drops open in shock and my face turns beat red. He laughs a little at my reaction.

"Dad, seriously," Daniel says, and I glance at him to see anger written on his face.

Kent laughs darkly at Daniel too.

I turn my head harshly. Kent's fingers lose their grip.

"If you want me to respect you," I say, my voice shaking with anger and embarrassment, "you should be more polite to me. I'm sure my father won't like to hear that I've been disrespected in your home."

Kent puts his whole hand on my cheek this time, turning my head to make me look at him. "You will receive respect," he says, his voice low and even, "when you learn your place. Say thank you for your breakfast, Fay."

I stare up at him, breathless, as he raises his other hand - a soft cloth napkin in it - to dab gently at my chin. He lingers, though, staring at my mouth, dragging the napkin across the length of my lower lip. "Th...thank you..." I whisper, captivated, not knowing what else to say.

"You're welcome," he replies, releasing his hold on me and turning to walk back to the kitchen.

"I'm so sorry," Daniel mutters, but I don't look at him. Instead, I watch Kent go, shocked and confused. Fascinated.

As he turns the corner into the kitchen, I realize that I have goosebumps all over my arms. I shudder and rub my hands up and down my forearms to warm myself up.

"Doesn't he have any boundaries?" I mutter to Daniel. "Or does he just do whatever he wants all the time?"

He sighs as he raises his coffee to his lips. "The latter, unfortunately. You get used to it."

I shake my head, thinking that I don't think I ever will, when the door to the kitchen flies open and a woman breezes in.

My eyes follow her, unable to look away as she saunters into the cooking area, her fuzzy slippers flopping on the floor, her silky leopard-print robe barely tied.

"I thought you dressed for breakfast in this house," I mutter, an eyebrow raised.

"We do," Daniel says. "But Fiona...also does what she wants."

I hear a laugh come from the kitchen - a full-throated, happy thing - and am surprised to see this woman throw her arms around Kent's neck, standing on her tiptoes to demand a kiss.

He obliges her and I feel something twist inside me. He whispers something in her ear and she turns, suddenly, to look right at me.

She gives me a broad, red-lipped smile while he says something else in her ear. I give her a tentative smile back, so she winks and blows me a kiss.

Her energy is effervescent. I can't help but like her.

"Who is she?" I ask, still watching her.

"Fiona," Daniel says, a little pained. "My father's mistress. Or, at least...one of them."

 

Chapter 13

Fiona finishes saying good morning to Kent and stops at our little table on the way out.

"This beauty must be Fay," she says as she arrives, giving me a big smile.

She has a thick New York accent, a little like Fran Drescher, and I can't help but be charmed by her sweet, brusk nature.

"It's nice to meet you," I say.

"Oh baby," she says, wrinkling her nose at me. "I already know all about you. Big Boy over there told me everything," she says, nodding at him over her shoulder.

I blush again. Big Boy?

Seriously?

What woman has the balls to call Kent Lippert Big Boy?

I laugh despite myself. "All good things, I hope."

"Only the best," she replies. "I'll catch you two babies later," she says, swooping down to give Daniel a kiss on the cheek as she goes. "And you," she points a manicured nail at me, "you're going shopping with me later, okay? Okay." She leaves without waiting for a response.

I watch her as she goes, a little jealous of her confidence as well as her raw sensuality. Fiona is the kind of buxom beauty who I imagine thrives in a world like this.

I look down at myself, feeling like a flat piece of plain white paper beside her.

"Sorry about that," Daniel says, his voice a little frustrated.

"Why?" I look up at him, surprised.

"It's just embarrassing, to have them around," he whispers, leaning forward so that only I hear him. "My dad could fill every room in this house with his lovers, if he wanted to," he says. "Although Fiona is...a favorite." I nod, understanding. "I can see why. She's so beautiful."

He sighs and I cock my head to the side. "What's wrong?"

"My whole life there have been women all over. Some stay for a night, some for months. Fiona has lasted years now, but it's only a matter of time before she's gone too. Women just love him." He scowls. I can't help but feel a little sorry.

"Well, I don't like him at all," I say, trying to cheer him up. "I think he's rude, and domineering, and he likes to make people feel uncomfortable to make them fall in line. I think you're ten times the man he is." Inside, I know it's a lie. But it's worth it for the burst of sunshine it brings to Daniel's face.

"Thank you, Fay," Daniel says, looking at me with real affection. "You're the only one who thinks that. I'm glad to have you on my side."

I smile at him and put my hand on top of his.

A few hours later, I jump out of my skin when the door to my room flies open again. "Shopping time!," Fiona says, almost pulling me off my feet as she grabs my hand.

"Wha -" I say, laughing a little as she eagerly bustles me out of the room. "Where are we going!?"

"Shopping, baby!" she laughs, pulling me down the steps. "I'm just so glad Daniel finally brought a girl home so I have someone to play with."

I bite my lip as I hurry behind her. "Shopping? I really don't think Kent's going to let me leave the house."

She gives me a wink as we arrive at a set of double doors close to the garages. "That's the great thing about this place, we don't have to leave. The shopping come to us."

With that, she pushes open the doors, revealing the treasure trove beyond.

I can't help but gape at what I see before me. There are stacks and stacks of luxury goods neatly arranged on hangers and racks. There's even a crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling. To my left is an entire two-story wall just of shoes. "Oh my god," I say, looking around.

"You like?" she asks, standing proudly in the middle of the room. "Kent used to have it all neatly put away in boxes, but I made him let me organize it. You know," she shrugs, "really give it that Rodeo Drive feeling."

It really is dazzling. Everywhere I look I see brand names I've only ever seen in fashion spreads - Balenciaga, Hermes, Dior, Chanel.

"Where did it all come from?" I ask.

She shrugs, beckoning me over to her. "Personal shoppers, mostly. Kent likes to look good, but he doesn't like to go to stores." I join her at a velvet settee in front of a trifold mirror. "The rest," she says, "are...gifts. Donations." I c**k my head at her, confused.

She gives me a wink. "You know. From people who owe him big but don't have the cash." She wrinkles her nose and smiles. "That's how he got me my Porsche." "Oh," I say, my eyes going wide.

"Oh, little baby Fay," she laughs, putting an arm around my shoulders. "You're so cute with your little blushes. It's nice to have someone so fresh around."

I smile at her, biting my lip as she moves over to a pile of silk and satin that she has draped over a chair.

"Now," she says, "I picked these out for you, but if you see anything else you like, just tell me." She starts to hold up dresses for me.

"Um," I say, hesitating. "Picked them out...for what?"

"For the party!" she says, beaming. "Did no one tell you? Tonight! The party so you can meet your father!"

Fiona smiles at me like I'm the luckiest girl in the world but I feel my face go as white as a sheet. Seeing the change in my demeanor, Fiona puts down the dresses and comes over. "Aw baby," she says soothingly. "Too much? Too soon?"

I take a deep breath. "Yeah, I guess. I've never met this man - didn't know he was my father until yesterday. It's all just a shock."

She gives my shoulders a quick squeeze. "Well, nothing's going to make you feel more confident than looking absolutely fabulous."

She hurries back over to the pile of dresses she set aside for me. "For you," she says, "I think, this one." Her voice is reverent as she holds up a gorgeous velvet gown, midnight blue with gauzy fabric trailing from the shoulders to create a diaphanous train. I gasp when I see it, unable to help myself as I move forward to touch the material. As I turn it over in my hands, I catch a view of the price tag. I blanche and drop the fabric.

"What?" she says, peering at me. "I thought you liked it? With that red hair you'll be a masterpiece."

"Fiona," I say, laughing a little, "that dress is the same price as a car, and not even a cheap car."

She shrugs. "So?"

"It's just...it's too extravagant for me!" I say, shaking my head.

"Baby," she says, coming forward and taking my chin in her hand, a little good-natured pity in her eyes. "This isn't extravagant enough for you."

I blink at her and she turns to hold the dress up so that I can see it against my body in the mirror. "This is the stuff that Kent lets me wear, Fay. And I'm just the goomah - the lady on the side," she says, winking at me. I can tell she doesn't feel any shame. "You though," she says. "Baby, you're royalty in this world. You're a princess."

I stare at myself in the mirror, suddenly worried. I'm no princess - not in any world - I'm a just a psych major -

But as I stare at myself in the mirror, with that dress pressed against me, I have to admit...I look, just a little bit, like royalty.

"You've gotta get used to the luxe life," she says quietly. "Kent told me to dress you in these tonight, but a girl like you should be wearing couture. To make up for it, though," her face lights up with excitement, "Kent says I get to pick you out some jewels!" She squeals, clapping her hands. I laugh as well, unable to help myself - she's so infectious.

Ten minutes later, when I see myself in the dress with sapphires draped around around my neck, I shake my head a little in disbelief.

"There she is," Fiona says, her voice awed. "The future wife of the most powerful heir in the city. Ladies and Gentlemen," she says, giving a little bow, "may I present your future Queen."

My heart sinks as I look at myself. Who even am I anymore?

 

Chapter 14

The party is, above all, impressive. Drinks are flowing, a whole twelve-piece band is at the back of the room playing hits from the fifties and sixties. Everyone is having a good time and, thank god, mostly ignoring me. Even though it's technically my party, everyone's too caught up in their own business to do much more than send me a curious glance.

I'm grateful for Daniel, who sticks close by my side. Even though he was raised in this environment, I can tell he's more comfortable with me, sneaking sips of his champagne and making wry comments that only I can hear. I can't help but laugh at the things he says. He's right - we always did get along.

Fiona sweeps around the room, looking almost indecently sexy in her black Versace gown. Looking around, though, I can see that she has competition for her daring choice of clothes. This group of mob bosses and wives do tend towards the sexy. There are lot of women's bodies on display around me, many of them enhanced with plumped lips, breasts, asses. Whatever they felt was lacking.

In comparison, I look demure in my sweeping blue gown. But Fiona picked well - if she had put me in something that showed a lot of skin, she knew I'd feel shy. As it is, the blue velvet gown makes me feel regal.

"You do look amazing," Daniel says, smiling down at me. "I mean, you were always pretty, Fay. But wow."

I smile up at him, pleased by his compliment. I knew he wouldn't say it unless he meant it.

We both watch as Fiona greets new guests, directing servants to take their fur coats and ensuring that they have drinks in their hands within half a minute.

"She's really the hostess here," I say, fascinated. "What would your dad do without her?"

"Yeah," Daniel says, studying her. "She's definitely taken up that wifey sort of roll." He shrugs. "But who knows, my dad is fickle. One wrong move and she could be out the door."

I look up at him, wondering if that's why he keeps his distance from her, emotionally. How many mother figures has Daniel had in his life who have disappeared in the night, never to be seen again? Beyond that, where is his real mom? I frown, making a mental note to ask some other time.

Daniel gives me a smile and then clinks my empty champagne glass with his. "Refill?" he asks.

I give him a nod and he heads off to the bar. I tap my foot to the music, enjoying it while I look around at all of the guests. Is my father here yet? Will I even recognize him when he arrives?

A voice rumbles, shockingly close to my ear. "If you like the music," it says, sending shivers down my spine, "why don't you dance?"

I turn to see Kent standing behind me, his hands clasped casually behind my back.

He stares baldly down into my face, his own only inches away. My heartbeat ratchets up.

"Um," I say, working to calm myself. God, why does he always get me so worked up, just by standing next to me? "I'm not much of a dancer."

He smirks, his eyes traveling over my body, taking in the way I look in this too-gorgeous gown. "Shame," he says. "That dress was made for dancing. You should let them see you in it."

I blush. That was breathlessly close to a compliment for Kent Lippert.

"Do you know," he continues, leaning even closer to murmur a secret in my ear. "I met your mother once, at a party like this."

I spin to look up at him. "You - you knew my mother?"

"Not well," he says. "But I remember that she was very beautiful. She had hair much like yours," he says, his voice wandering with memory as he raises a hand to curl a tendril around his finger. "And she was not afraid to dance." I blink at him, suddenly terribly sad to have never seen her like that.

He presses his lips together, studying me. Then he clears his throat and pulls his gaze away, scanning the crowd. "I have word from your father's people," he says. "He'll be here very soon."

My eyes widen. I mean, of course it was the whole point of the evening, but now that it's close?

I'm terrified.

Kent clenches his jaw as he observes my reaction. "Chin up, girl," he says, his voice steady, giving me strength. "Meet him with pride."

I swallow and nod, trying to embody that. But inside I'm quailing.

Daniel walks back over to me, his steps slowing and his face growing worried when he sees who I'm talking to. When Kent catches sight of him, he nods. "Good," Kent says, beckoning Daniel closer.

As Daniel hands my glass of champagne to me, his father holds out a black velvet box to him. Frowning with confusion, Daniel takes and opens it. His face falls slack as he sees what's inside.

My own jaw drops when I see the size of the diamond sitting on the little velvet pillow. At least ten carats, emerald cut, set in an art deco style.

"It would be appropriate," Kent says, his voice commanding, "for Fay to wear your family's ring tonight, since you are engaged."

"Dad," Daniel says, looking up at him. "This was mom's ring..."

Kent nods sharply, holding out the box to him. It's not really an offer.

Daniel sighs and takes the box, lifting the ring from it. He looks at me and c***s his head to the side. My fingers shaking a little, I raise my hand. As Daniel takes it and starts to slip the ring onto my finger, I wonder what this means. Is this a tacit agreement to the engagement? Or some sort of ploy for when I meet my father? Is Kent trying to mark me as part of his own family, even as I meet my own?

My questions are interrupted, though, by the feeling of the ring sticking at my second knuckle.

Daniel pushes harder, but it won't budge.

"Um, dad," Daniel says, looking between us. "I think it's too small."

I bite my lip, embarrassed. I guess Daniel's mom had slimmer fingers than me.

Kent glares at Daniel and then nudges him aside, taking my hand in his own. Deftly, he angles the ring so that it slips over the knuckle, and then presses down. I look up into his eyes as the ring slides home to the base of my finger. I hold my breath, almost, as I feel my cold hand in his warm one, the weight of his ring on my finger.

He stares back at me, his lips parting slightly, revealing clenched teeth behind.

"Thanks dad," Daniel says, a little awkward, breaking the tension as he takes my hand out of his father's grip, holding it gently in his own. He gives his dad a weird look and then turns his attention to the ring.

"It looks good on you, Fay," Daniel says, looking me in the face and smiling.

I hesitate a little, trying to smile back, and then focusing on the ring. This incredible, gigantic, insane rock on my finger.

It's beautiful, but...

Before I can consider it any more, the room goes quiet, the band dying awkwardly off as they notice that everyone has stopped dancing and has turned towards the door.

Footsteps echo as a man walks in, a woman in a slinky grey dress only a few steps behind. Following her are at least four guards, probably more, though I can't see any further behind them to count.

He's a tall man - as tall as Kent, but older, bulkier. His fine pinstriped suit is tight across the paunch of his stomach, but he has a certain power as he begins to cross the room towards us, surveying the crowd as he goes. The woman he came with moves away to the bar.

I hold my breath as the man walks over to us, his eyes sweeping over me from head to foot.

He shocks me, though, by ignoring me when he finally arrives. Instead, he turns to Kent and puts out a hand.

"Lippert," the man says, not smiling. Kent accepts the hand, shaking it.

"So glad you could come, Alden," he says and then silently returns his hands to his pockets. He lets Alden take the lead.

Alden nods and looks back at me. "So. Is this her?"

Kent nods, putting a hand between my shoulder blades. Encouraged, I raise my chin and stand before this man, letting him look at me, feeling, more than anything, like a horse at the market. I wonder, passively, if he's going to start counting my teeth. "Alden," Kent says, "this is Fay Thompson. Your daughter."

 

Chapter 15

Alden narrows his eyes at me and looks back at Kent. I'm a little shocked, I admit, that he hasn't addr "Is this for real, Lippert?" Alden asks, a threat behind his glare.

me yet. I stand awkwardly in front of him and Daniel quietly takes my hand, giving it a squeeze of support.

Kent nods slowly. "We did a test. It's a 99% genetic match for paternity. I can show you the paperwork upstairs, and you can have it verified by your own doctors. But, with that kind of proof at hand, Alden." He spread his hands out, hoping Alden takes him at his word. "Why would I lie?" Alden nods and returns his gaze to me, staring for a moment. Then, he shocks me again by breathing uge breath of air and rubbing a hand down his face. "Damnit, but you look like your mother," he mutters. rock of a man, but I can see that deep feelings run beneath.

My mouth falls open when I see the glimmer of tears in his eyes. My heart goes out to him, then. He's "Where is she?" he demands.

Surprised, I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. "She died," I say, grimacing inwardly at my bluntness. Alden's face falls minutely. Surely, after all these years, he knew it would be unlikely that she would be alive, but still - he's upset by the news. Alden works hard to arrange his face in the impassive mask he had when he entered the room. I bite my lip knowing that the news has hurt him. "When?" he asks.

"Years ago," I whisper, sorry to be the one to tell him. "I was young - I had just turned six."

I feel horrible - I had no idea that he cared for her as much as he clearly does. I had assumed she was "How?" He asks, crossing his arms over his barrel chest.

at had Fiona called herself? - a goomah. His mistress, or his girlfriend, not someone he really I cared about.

"A car accident," I say, my voice hardly more than a whisper now. "They said...they said she went fast. No par."

He nods sharply and then turns his head away, gathering himself together. "And where has she been laid to rest?" Alden asks, not looking at me.

"In a small cemetery by our home - in the churchyard. I can take you there, if you like," Isay, my voice

He's angry then, instantly, his emotions snapping from sadness to anger at the flip of a switch. He turns his burning eyes to me. "In a churchyard?" He shakes his head. "He didn't respect her, then, the man she left me for," he growls. "To bury her in a churchyard, when she deserves to lay in state, in a mausoleum."

I find my own emotions turning, then, from pity to anger. How dare he suggest that David was anything buton angel in our lives?

"My dad was wonderful to my mother," I say, not considering my actions as I take a step forward. Dani

"He was nothing," Alden growls.

"He raised me -"

"He KEPT you from me," the words rip from Alden's mouth.

s my hand tighter, in a warning that comes too late -

Realizing my mistake, I cower back, my eyes going wide. Alden takes a heavy step towards me, intimidation in every muscle of his body.

"Tell me the truth, girl," he says, taking another step. "Did he know about your parentage? Did he know where she came from, who your real father was?"

Unable to deny it, I stay silent, keeping my face still.

"I thought so," he says, narrowing his eyes at me. "He kept you from me, my daughter, not his! And he should die for it."

I realize, suddenly, that I'm afraid of this man. That if this is what he's like the first time meeting his daughter, then I can't imagine the kind of things my mother must have gone through. She must have experienced moods that made her decide to pack up and leave him, to give up everything she'd ever known to keep me away.

And yet here I was, in the place she'd so desperately left. Why did I let myself get so wrapped up in this world? I cower away from my father.

"Enough," Kent's voice rings out behind me, cool and calm.

Alden turns angry eyes to him but Kent holds his ground.

"I'm pleased to announce," Kent says, his teeth gritted, making clear that his pleasure is only a formality. He nods pointedly at the ring on my hand, "that our agreement, years ago, to unite our families through marriage is holding strong. Your daughter is engaged to my son. I anticipate that the wedding will be swift, in the next few months, if it can be arranged."

My father's growl is low in his throat. "This is a trick," he says. "How can they be engaged, when you just found her yesterday?"

Daniel is quick to answer. "We met before, by some miracle," he says, giving Alden a small but earnest smile. "We were already dating, actually."

No mention, conveniently, of the fact that we broke up.

I look between Daniel and his father, and then over at mine, and suddenly realize that Daniel is in on this. He and his father carefully planned this meeting, this conversation. In one swoop, they gave Alden back his daughter and claimed me as their own. Now they have the one thing Alden wants more than anything: the last remaining piece of his lost love.

I am suddenly angry again. It doesn't matter what I want at all, whether or not I want to marry Daniel. Because Daniel, too, is a player in this game, moving me around like the pawn that I am.

I open my mouth to protest, but Alden interrupts me.

"Good," he says, looking between the three of us, perhaps realizing that he has no real leverage in this game. "This is the best arrangement. A uniting of the families."

He turns his attention back to me and I see his face soften again. Truly, he is a man of many moods and swift changes.

"It is wonderful to meet you, daughter, on this the occasion of your engagement." He gives me a formal little bow and raises my left hand to his face, kissing both my fingers and the ring.

When he releases me, I give him a small smile. Then, I surprise myself by speaking, despite my wariness around him. "I - I'd like to know more about my mother," I say in a rush.

He raises his eyebrows, surprised. When he says nothing, I continue.

"David - my dad - he didn't talk about her a lot. I think talking about her past made her sad. But, if you wouldn't mind, I'd...like to know more." I twist my fingers together, anxious.

He nods slowly, putting his hands in his pockets. "And I'd like to know you more, Fay. You are my daughter, my blood. It's only right we should spend some time together, get to know each other," he glances at Daniel here for a moment, "though I understand your fiancé is your priority now, as a husband should be."

I look between them, not understanding the politics. But Alden continues before I can figure it out.

"We'll spend some time together," he says, rocking back on his heels and considering me, a little fondness on his face. "Get to know each other. And, though it may take me some time," he rubs his hand across his chin, frowning and considering, "I'll do my best to tell you what I can of your mother. She was...a remarkable woman."

I give him a small smile and his eyes go sentimental, soft. "Beautiful, Fay," he says softly. "You're beautiful, like her."

I bite my lip, tears coming to my own eyes.

One thing was for sure - I wanted to know more about my mother, about what drew her into this world, what forced her out. Knowing more could open so many doors to the mysteries of my life, my identity. But at what price would that knowledge come?