Ch. 146..150: Fall For My Ex’s Mafia Dad Chapter 146-150

Chapter 146

I pull myself out of the shower a ridiculously long time later, only really leaving because the water that was falling on my shoulders had grown colder and colder until I was shivering. I towel myself off, shaking my head a little to consider that while I'm all cried out, my tears didn't bring the relief that I thought they would.

Because honestly, I'm still a wreck about this.

I know what I'm supposed to do now, I think as I wrap my big fluffy white robe around myself and pass into my bedroom, sitting down hard on my vanity's stool, still shivering a little. I'm supposed to leave. Kent gave me his answer to my ultimatum - I said I would go if he didn't tell me, and he didn't. So now...

I'm supposed to go.

But god damn it, where to?

And honestly, I'm fully aware of the fact that I don't want to go anywhere. I want to stay right here, with Daniel and with Kent - who are now basically my family. I want to stay here, and work things out, and convince Kent that we can fix this - But really? Is that even worth my time?

I shake my head at my pale face in the mirror as I start to brush the tangles out of my wet hair, feeling very pathetic. Kent has demonstrated time and time again that he doesn't really trust me, that I'm just...a pleasant distraction for him. One of his many, many mistresses. Nothing special.

And if I continue to let him treat me like that...

I mean, I know it was part of the contract. But I always thought it was more.

But now that I know it's how he really feels...

Will I ever be able to respect myself again if I continue in a relationship with a man who just views me as a girl who he just considers his pretty little secret? Who comes to his room every night at his beck and call, and to whom he doesn't give anything in return?

I scowl at myself a little when I think this, because I'm fully aware that he has given me things in return - a great deal of money, a horse, a beach house I've never been to -

But nothing...nothing that I really want. Nothing I really care about.

And as I stare at myself in the mirror I make myself say the words I've been avoiding for a long time now.

"I want him," I confess to myself, my voice soft. "All of him."

And then the tears start to slide down my face again as I realize it's not something that's ever been on the table. That I'll never, ever get this thing that I very, very much want.

Not as cried out as I thought I was, I think, looking down at my hands sitting limply in my lap.

I'm still crying a few minutes later when a sharp knock comes up at the door.

To emotionally exhausted to even really be curious, I slowly stand up and cross to the door. When I open it, no one's standing there, but I'm not surprised. I look down, fully expecting to see a little note delivered. I'm not disappointed.

I pick up the note, bringing it into my room and turning the lock after I close my door. I open the note without even moving to my bed and quickly read the three words printed there in Kent's tiny, precise handwriting. Come downstairs, Fay.

And I stare at it, desperately wanting to see this as a peace offering, as Kent wanting to talk, to make things right.

But it's not. I know it's not.

Because it's not an apology, is it? Or him taking anything back. Or him demonstrating that he trusts me. It's just him, calling to me, telling me to come to his side. So he can do what he always does - distract me with sex so that I forgive him and move on without a second thought.

But I'm not going to do that anymore.

I crumple the note and throw it in my trashcan, taking a deep breath as I head to bed.

Because if I go downstairs now, Kent will have all the information he needs: that I'm so pathetically desperate for him that I'll come whenever he calls, no matter how much he treats me like untrustworthy trash.

It will be, in its essence, permission for him to keep doing it. Evidence that he can treat me like that, and I'll still come when he calls.

And as I lay down on the bed and flick off my light, I'm a little surprised by myself. Because I didn't realize I had this much pride.

Learning a lot about myself these past few weeks, I think, closing my eyes. And then I do my very best to clear my mind and force myself to sleep, hoping desperately that I'll feel better in the morning. That things will be clearer.

And I almost make it to sleep - am in that half-daze pre-dream state - when I jump to hear the intercom on my wall buzz, which it so rarely does.

"Fay," Kent's voice comes through, stern.

I sit up in bed, surprised, staring at the intercom as if I can see him through it. But I don't get up.

"Damn it, Fay," he growls. "Come downstairs. I want to talk to you."

And I consider it - I honestly do. Because all I want right now is to fly through the house, and through all the doors, and directly into his arms - for him to tell me that it's okay. That it's all better.

But I know that it's not. And I sigh, desperately sad, because nothing has changed. It's still just Kent snapping his fingers and me running to him, tongue lolling, tail wagging.

And even though I know I'm precisely that desperate, heartsick puppy who wants to come back no matter how many times he kicks me...I shake my head.

Because I just can't do it. I sigh, looking down into my lap, and then I jump again when I hear the intercom buzz a third time.

"Fay!" he almost shouts, clearly pissed now. And my eyes go wide as I hear him grumble a few frustrated curses, but then the intercom goes silent.

I wait a few seconds for another noise, but when none comes I just sigh and stand up, knowing I'm too shaken to sleep now. So, I move to my wardrobe, and strip off my fluffy robe, and pull on the warmest, comfiest, least sexy pajamas I have - blue flannel, button down, with little stars on them - and crawl back into my bed.

After looping my still-damp hair onto my head in a messy bun, I pick up a book from my nightstand, flick on my reading light, and start to read, trying to wipe thoughts of Kent from my mind.

The book is a good one - I'm quickly engrossed in the romance of it, the quick twists and turns of the plot, the plight of the heroine which is, indeed, quite shocking.

But nothing shocks me more than a sudden noise in my own room.

And my jaw drops open as I hear the door in the back of my wardrobe pop.

And then see the wardrobe's door slowly press open.

 

Chapter 147

My mouth is still hanging open when I see Kent's dark head and broad shoulders ducking through the I'm still staring when he turns to glare at me.

"Are you happy now, Fay?" Kent asks, stern and clearly pissed off.

And that makes me snap my mouth shut as I narrow my eyes at him.

"Do I look happy, Kent?" I ask, waving a hand at myself - at my tear-stained cheeks, my messy hair.

And, well, my cozy pajamas, my book, and my reading light might not be adding to the picture of mise "Fay," he sighs. "Why didn't you come downstairs? I want to talk to you."

"Because, Kent," I answer softly. "You already gave me your answer."

"To what question?" he snaps, looking up at me and clearly working hard to contain his temper. "To...whether or not you want me in your life."

"What?" Kent breathes, appalled, leaning forward a little to stare at me like I'm crazy.

"I said," I explain, starting to get pissed now because I am very aware of what happened downstairs an your life. And you made it very clear that you don't trust me! So!" I spread my arms wide, inviting him "Fay," Kent groans, tilting his head back. "I trust you - it's just -"

"Clearly you don't!" I declare, crossing my arms, my voice getting unconsciously louder. "Or else you would "Fay!" Kent hisses, slicing a hand through the air in an attempt to silence me and glaring towards the I roll my eyes, sinking back into my pillows, sick of being told what to do and when to do it and having

I turn to stare at the wall across from me, not wanting to look at him right now. Because I know that if And continue to treat me like his mistress.

And I...I can't do that. Not anymore.

I hear Kent sigh and I know that he's looking at me again. I go tense under his gaze.

door of my tiny wardrobe.

nt him to see at the moment, but I think he gets the point because Kent sighs and presses the bridge of his nose between his fingers.

akes me insane that he either wasn't paying attention or is playing dumb now, "that if you don't trust me, that I have to rethink my place in the world and in re the rest out himself.

have told me what the hell you're getting up to that's going to cost all of these human lives!" Lower your voice! Someone will hear you!"

ep quiet in my own bedroom - the one space where I'm supposed to be able to expect to have a little privacy - just to adhere to his rules. e's just going to work his wiles on me and convince me to forgive him.

"Please," he says, a real plea in his voice. But I still don't look at him. "Fay, please," he tries again, and I hear him take another step towards me.

Still, I don't move. "Fay, I'm sorry -"

"You already said that tonight," I snap, still staring at the wall, not letting myself turn towards him even though every molecule in my body wants to. "And then, at the first test of it, you repeated the exact thing that hurt me most the first time you said it." "Fay, I didn't -" "You did!" I snap. "You -"

"Would you let me finish a god damn sentence, Fay?" Kent growls and I snap my head to him then, glaring with every bit of strength I have, forcing myself to hate him when I know I feel precisely the opposite.

"Not if it means letting you off the hook for treating me like I'm just the girl you're fucking, Kent," I say slowly, cruelly, in response. "And not something more. Which we both know I am."

It's a gamble, those words. Because he's never said more - has never told me, explicitly, that he feels anything more for me than just the mistress he signed up for with that stupid contract.

But I know. I know it in my bones.

And right now? He's either going to admit it, or he's going to lose me. Because I can't do it anymore - not when I have it on good authority that someone is coming to kill us all sometime this week. The time for playing coy is over. He either trusts me or he doesn't. We're either in this together?

Or I'm leaving.

I'm not getting killed for someone who doesn't trust me and can't even admit he cares about me.

And as I glare up at him, and he glares back, I know that Kent understands all of it.

We stay in that deadlock for a long time, staring at each other, each waiting for the other to break. But neither does.

Until, to my surprise, Kent shifts his position and looks down at his feet, stepping his right foot on the heel of his left shoe and starting to step out of it.

"What?" I ask, confused, realizing that Kent's...taking off his shoes? "What are you doing?"

"I'm coming to bed, Fay," he snaps, looking up at me and renewing his little glare.

"What?" I ask again, still baffled as he shrugs off his suit jacket and hangs it neatly up on a spare hanger in the wardrobe.

But he doesn't answer me this time, just sighs as he peels back the covers on the other side of the bed - Daniel's side of the bed, technically - and sits down on the mattress, leaning back against the pile of floral pillows against my headboard. "Turn off the light," he says, nodding to my reading light.

But I hesitate, glaring at him a little and grabbing a pillow that I plant staunchly between us like a little wall. Kent glances down at it.

"What's that for?" he asks.

"So you can't seduce me," I grumble, "into being nice to you after you've been so mean to me -"

"Is that all it will take to get you to stop being mad at me?" Kent asks, raising an eyebrow at me. "Just, sex?"

"Well, probably!" I answer too quickly, and then bite my lip as I see Kent's mouth quirk up into the start of a smile. Unable to look at him, I bury my face in my hand as I mumble my reply. "You're...hard to resist, Kent. And we both know you use s*x to manipulate me." Kent laughs a dark little laugh then. "Manipulate might be too strong a word, Fay," he murmurs softly. I feel him trace his fingers over my knee then and I angrily swat his hand away.

"No touching," I murmur, frustrated. Because - damn it, I'm trying so hard to hold onto my convictions - but I'm so happy he's here - so pleased that he swallowed his own pride and made himself go all the way through the passage, to climb that stupid winding staircase - made himself make the trek he usually makes me take every night to be by his side.

But still. It's not an apology. It's not a sigh of trust. I steel myself and try to be newly determined to stay strong. Because my self-worth is worth more than what he's offering. Especially now that I know just how much more I want.

"The light, Fay," Kent says and I pull my hand away from my face to frown at him a little, confused.

"Why?"

"Because," he says, giving me a little shrug. "If I'm going to confess all of my darkest secrets to you, it feels....more appropriate to do it with the lights off."

 

Chapter 148

I stare too long at Kent in surprise and he rolls his eyes at me before shifting to reach over me toward "Hey!" I snap, smacking at him and making him flinch back.

ght, his body brushing against mine.

the light!"

"What?" he asks, glaring at me again.

"No touching!" I say, pushing him back to the other side of the bed that now feels much too small. "I

"Well, you weren't getting it, Fay," Kent points out, but I flap my hand at him dismissively and turn to fuck off the light. The room instantly plunges into an inky blue darkness and when I turn back to Kent I can only see his shadowy outlines on my bed. "Better?" I ask. "Yes," he sighs, starting to lay down.

"What are you doing?" I ask.

"Getting comfortable, Fay," he replies, and then I see his head turn towards me as he holds open an an "No. Touching." I say through my teeth.

Kent sighs in exasperation in response. "Damn it, Fay," he says, shaking his head and covering his face lay it out for you. Now would you please, please just let me fucking hold you while I talk, instead of gl A little angry about being put in my place like that, I scowl and rip away the pillow between us, tossin "Touching privileges will be revoked," I murmur, "if you are a d**k to me."

"Okay," he sighs, wrapping his arm around my shoulders and pulling me a little closer. Then, quite sof But I flinch away. "No funny business," I murmur, wanting quite desperately to hold my ground but kno "No funny business," Kent agrees, sighing again and turning his face up to the ceiling so that I can see I know my answer immediately. "I want to know what you're sending to Italy. Is it...drugs?" "No," he replies without hesitation, apparently wanting to make it clear that he's not holding anything "What is it?" I ask.

ting me to come closer.

s hands. "I have given in to everything you've wanted tonight. You didn't want to come downstairs? I came up here. You wanted to hear the truth? I'm here to me like an angry cat?"

o the floor and angrily tucking myself in against Kent's side, my cute flannel pajamas pressed up against the clean white starch of his dress shirt.

urmurs "thank you" before turning his head to bring his nose closer to me, sniffing my freshly-washed hair.

hat I will lose my head immediately if this goes any further.

ar outline of his profile against the dark of the room. "What do you want to know, Fay?" nymore. "It's not heroin. It's not any kind of drugs."

Kent sighs, lifting a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose again. "It's...guns, Fay. Alessi asked me to senseat deal of guns to Italy so that they can...better conduct their business there. As you might presume, guns are harder to get in Europe than they are in America."

"Oh," I say, my eyes going wide as my body relaxes against his, my mind whirling. Because I feel, somehow, instantly better.

I don't know why and I feel a little guilty that I do - it's not like guns don't hurt as many people as drugs do. But there's just...something horrible to me about the idea of building a multi-million-dollar business on an industry that gets people hooked on a drug, drains them of everything they own in their further pursuit of that drug, and then leaves them to die when they've got nothing else to give.

Kent gives me a moment to process this, laying silent with his arm wrapped warm around me. "Kent," I continue when I'm ready, my voice very soft. "Why didn't you just tell me that? It doesn't seem like that big of a deal."

I see him shake his head a little. "Because, Fay. Like I said downstairs, you don't need to know it."

"But I do need to know it -"

"You don't!"

"Kent!" I interrupt, frustrated again, smacking my hand against his stomach to make him listen to me. "Something is going down! Someone is trying to kill you, to kill us! And I want to help -"

"Fay," Kent sighs. "There's nothing you can do to help - I've got it handled. And even if you could help, I don't want you to help."

"Why not?" I ask, a little appalled.

"Because" he says, turning his face towards me. "I don't want you involved in any of this - you or Daniel. I want all of this gone, dead, dusted. I don't want you to know any of this because the more you get caught up in it, the dirtier you're going to get, and the larger chance there is of you getting hurt. Or...kidnapped. Or f*****g arrested, Fay."

I blink in surprise. I never, ever considered that any of my connections to this could be...illegal. I mean. I haven't done anything wrong.

Have I?

"Kent, I'm already involved in this," I remind him softly. "I was born into this."

"You were free of it," he grumbles. "Your mom made sure of that. I'm the a*****e who roped you back in."

I bite my lip, realizing that's true, but I shake my head anyway. "I don't want out, Kent," I say softly. "Not if it means...leaving."

Leaving you, I finish in my head. But I'm not ready to say it yet.

"And I don't want you to go," he sighs, turning fully to me now so that we're face-to-face, just inches apart on the mattress. "So, would you please just let me keep you out of it, Fay? It's not - it's not at all that I don't trust you. I'm just trying to end this, and it's easier to do that if you and Daniel aren't involved."

"What do you mean?" I ask, unable to stop myself from reaching out a hand and laying it against his cheek. Kent turns his face into my touch, pressing into my palm. "What are you trying to end?"

"All of this, Fay," he sighs, his body relaxing into the mattress now, almost as if his secrets were a weight on him. "I want...out of the world of crime. Completely. I want to go legit."

"Really?" I ask, shocked. "Wh-why?"

"Are you so disappointed, Fay?" he murmurs, and I can hear the smirk in his voice. "Are you only attracted to me if there's a hint of danger to it?"

"No," I reply, laughing a little. "I just...never thought of you outside of it. Why do you want this?"

"I've wanted it since I was old enough to want," he replies, his words distanced and thoughtful now. "Ever since I saw my father being murdered."

I go cold as I remember Kent telling me that story, about watching his father bleed to death before him in a brutal mob hit. He had only been a child, and then was almost immediately sent away to Italy.

"I owed - we owed - the Bianci's everything in exchange for what they did for me," he continues. "And I gave it all to them - I gave them the business and the connections that they wanted when I came back to America, made them more money than they've ever had, gave them a grandson to inherit it all, gave them my god damn heart when I married Lenai -"

I go still a little when I hear him mention her, when he finishes his words angrily through clenched teeth.

Because I have to admit - on a night when I think Kent might be leaving me, the last person I want to think about is the woman I can never live up to. Lenai.

 

 

Chapter 149

"And I'm still giving everything to the Bianci," Kent sighs, completely unaware of how jealous I am at the mere mention of his wife. "Twenty years - twenty years of building everything. And I swear to god - I'm almost out. I've almost paid my tab, I can feel it. Just...a little bit more, and then I'll be free." "So, this is the end of it?" I ask after a moment. "The guns? Are the end?"

"I don't know," he murmurs. "It's not like there's a literal tab, Fay. It ends when I can...substantially make the case for breaking off the ties. That it will be more profitable for both of us if I stop meddling with crime and actually go legit. And I've been building that case for a long time - I have a lot of investments in tech and real estate, it should all work out. But," he pauses, turning to me, "the Bianci's aren't easily convinced to give up their golden goose, are they?"

"No," I say, nodding slowly, finally putting the final pieces of the puzzle together. "Which is why they're pushing you so hard to marry Natalia."

"Precisely," he says, wrapping the arm beneath me a little tighter. "But my marriage isn't on the table as a bargaining chip this time. Not anymore."

There's a long pause before I ask my next question.

"Is that why you married her, Kent?" I ask, tentative.

"Partially," he replies after a second, and I think I hear a little relief in his voice to speak the truth.

"Oh," I whisper, surprised. "I - I thought you loved her."

"I did love Lenai, Fay," he replies, and I can feel him looking seriously at me. "I would never deny it - would never want to. She was incredibly important to me, and a good wife, and a great mom. But it was...complicated." "Okay," I reply, not wanting to push him on this. And honestly, not sure I'll be able to bear it much longer, hearing him tell me about how much he loved another woman.

"Kent?" I ask after a long moment of silence. He makes a soft noise, urging me to continue. "You are sending guns to Italy now...but does that mean you aren't involved in the drug trade? At all?"

"No," he replies, "I don't. I leave that, ironically, to your father and your boy Ivan. I was able to convince the Bianci's a long time ago that drugs are dirty money and the business had too many eyes on it. And I was right - there was more to be made from slower, more subtle businesses. Do you want me to tell you what those are?"

"No," I murmur, letting my hand drift to his shirt, where I idly play with one of his buttons. "That's okay. Not tonight. But I reserve the right to ask later."

Kent murmurs his assent and another moment passes before he urges me on. "What else, Fay," he asks. "I want this done - I want peace between us. So, whatever you want to know, ask now - because I don't have the patience or the nerves to have this fight again." I move closer to Kent then, tucking my head below his chin, pleased when he wraps his other arm around me and holds me close against him. "You said that you're legitimate now. But you had to start from scratch when you got back from Italy," I say quietly, thinking aloud. "Was it...was it very bad, Kent?" I ask. Honestly, I'm not really sure why I want to know. But as soon as ask it, I know that I need to know what it was like.

"It was awful," he replies, resting his chin against my head as he remembers it. "Just...scraping on my knees trying to reignite the connections my father burned, taking insane risks to build trust, gambling everything on these reckless hits to build as much power and control as I could as fast as I could. And all with a baby at home." Kent sighs and tucks his forehead against mine. "It was...horrible. Some men have a taste for this world, Fay - I f*****g hate it. I'm just good at it, because I was trained by the best."

I pull back then, looking him in the face, meeting his eyes as best I can in the dark. "Have you killed anyone, Kent?" I ask quietly.

"Yes," he whispers instantly, giving me his honest confession. "More than you'd probably want to know, Fay. Innocent men as well as real scum bags. Cops, bosses, both sides. I've ordered hits and I've pulled the trigger myself. And...worse." He sighs. "I have a lot of blood on my hands, Fay."

I nod, letting him know that I hear him as my gut twists as I think about what Kent has done. Because it's not that I didn't know it. I just...it's easier to suspect, I guess, rather than have it confirmed.

"Is that...does that change you feel about me?" Kent asks serious, carefully observing my face.

And I take a long moment to consider his question, wanting to be as honest with him as he's been with me. And then, as I stare at him and really search my heart, I'm a little surprised to find that there's no part of me that wants to run screaming from him now that I know this. And maybe it's my mafia baby genetics, or the fact that I've been living in a mafia household for months?

But it doesn't. It doesn't change a thing about how I feel for him. Not at all.

"No," I say simply, looking evenly into Kent's face. "It's not a problem for me. Unless...are you going to kill more people?"

Kent laughs then, a dark thing. "It's not part of my agenda Fay, no." He lowers his head to my neck then, running his nose and his mouth along the length of my skin there before pulling back a moment later. "I would, though," he adds seriously. "You should know that. If anyone came to threaten you, or Daniel? I wouldn't hesitate. I was born and raised to be a killer, Fay," he continues, shaking his head regretfully. "You should...know that about me. It's not something I can, or would, wipe away."

I nod once, accepting it, and I slide my own hand up his neck and into his hair, letting my fingers tangle there as I pull him tight against me again, wanting him close. "Thank you," I murmur, as Kent rolls his body over mine a little, letting his weight rest against me. "For trusting me."

"I do trust you, Fay," he murmurs, nudging my nose with his. "I wish you would trust me."

I laugh up at him then. "Kent," I say, shaking my head and smiling a little, "when you say 'trust me,' sometimes you mean 'let me run your life for you."

"Yes," he says decisively, sliding a hand up my arm and lifting it above my head, stopping only when he's got my wrist pinned against the mattress. "That would be preferable, Fay. For you to cede me complete control."

"Well," I whisper, biting my lip as I look up at him in the dark, as I lift my leg to wrap around his hip. "Maybe...just for one night."

And, after laughing darkly and shaking his head at my continued resistance and negotiation, Kent kisses me, his hand tightening against my wrist. And I let it go - all of it.

And I let him take control.

And Kent takes his time in convincing me that it was a very, very good idea.

 

Chapter 150

I wake up blinking to the chirping sound of Kent's phone and I groan a little as I turn over in Kent's arms. But when I look at his face, I grin to see that he hasn't woken up yet.

Apparently he really does need his wake-the-dead alarm clock to get him up in the mornings, especially after a night of confessions. I smile as I take in the sight of Kent's handsome face in repose. And then, slowly at first, I start to laugh as I take in the sight of him - this gigantic, fierce, scary man - wrapped up in my floral comforter, his feet hanging off the end of the bed that's too small for him.

Even though the alarm doesn't work my laughter clearly does, and Kent starts to open his eyes. Then, predictably, he glares at me. "What's so funny," he murmurs.

"You," I say, pressing my body closer to him as I smile. Then I lower my voice, doing my best imitation of him. "I'm going to have to send you through the passage now, Kent. Very busy day ahead of me. Take your coffee and go."

Kent smirks, giving me a half-hearted little smack on the a*s before turning to reach for his phone, clicking the alarm off and turning back to me. "This is a lie," he sighs, wrapping his arms around me again and again pulling me tight against him. "You're not allowed to have coffee in your room, Fay. A constant supply of caffeine for you would be a danger to all society -"

I laugh, pressing my lips to his to shut him up. "But it would be so fun for me," I murmur. "You should do it, Kent. Give me a coffee machine for in here. Just a little baby one."

"Never," he murmurs, laughing with me as he softly strokes my hair and looks down into my face. He pauses for a long moment, just looking at me, and I can't help the wide smile that crosses my face as I look right back at him. Despite the fact that I spent half the night crying over him, I feel...closer now, to Kent, than I've felt before.

"Are we good?" he asks me seriously, his eyes flicking over my face to assess my reaction to his question.

"I think so," I say honestly, looping my arms around his neck. "I'm okay. Thank you...for coming up here. For trusting me."

"I'm still sorry," he says softly, pressing his lips briefly to mine, "for making you think that I didn't. And for...saying horrible things I didn't mean."

"I forgive you," I say simply, and the words are easy because they're true.

Kent opens his mouth to say something else but suddenly my bedroom door shudders, the handle turning. We both turn to look at it and my eyes fasten on the engaged deadbolt that prevents whoever is outside from getting in.

"Fay?" Daniel's voice comes through the door. "Are you - are you okay? I wanted to check on you."

"Well...this," Kent murmurs, raising his eyebrows, "is an...unexpected role reversal."

"Yeah," I say, wrinkling my nose at him and starting to laugh. "You'd better get out of here before your son catches you sneaking into his place in bed."

Kent wrinkles his nose at me in distaste and then looks down at the bed as he realizes that I'm right - that he is sleeping in Daniel's spot. "Gross," he murmurs before starting to stand up, and he sound so much like Daniel just then that I start to laugh harder. "Fay?" Daniel's voice comes from the door, sounding confused. He's probably heard me laughing.

I open my mouth to respond but Kent gives me a glare as he pulls on his pants and grabs the rest of his clothing off the floor with one hand. Then he puts one finger to his lips to indicate that he does not want, at all, for me to tell Daniel that he's here. I nod to Kent, grinning, and call out to Daniel at the door. "One second, Daniel! I'm coming!"

Kent nods to me and then, for just a moment, stands still and lets his eyes slip over me where I sit naked in my bed, the sheets pulled up against my chest. And I can't help but smile harder when I see the desire in his eyes. Our eyes meet and we both know what he'd be doing to me if his son weren't at the door. But I just wave him off with one hand and start to stand up.

Kent sighs and heads through the wardrobe, pulling the door shut behind him as I grab my fluffy white robe off the floor, pulling it on before hurrying to the door to unlock it and pull it open.

"Hi!" I say, beaming up at Daniel cheerfully. And then I laugh harder as he frowns down at me, because he doesn't know just how much he looks like his dad right now.

"Well," he says, moving into the room when I step backwards to make space for him. "You're...happier than I thought you'd be."

"I got over it," I say with a happy sigh, moving over to my vanity to sit down as Daniel shuts the door behind him.

"You did?" Daniel asks confused. "How -" but he goes silent as he looks at the bed, seeing the blankets mussed on both sides, the indentations in both pillows. "Oh gross, Fay," he groans, making me laugh harder. "Seriously!?" Daniel says, gesturing towards the bed. "He came up through the wardrobe? He slept here?"

"We were in a fight," I say, giving a little shrug. "We...made up."

Daniel pretends to gag as he moves to lean against the wall, apparently having no desire to sit on the bed until the sheets are changed. I grin at Daniel in the mirror as he shakes his head at me. "Well, you're welcome," he says, with a smug little shrug. "What?" I ask.

"I went down and yelled at him last night," Daniel replies, "after I left your room. He was all pissed off and determined to pull his lone wolf act, but I told him to talk to you. So, you're welcome."

I smile at him again, deeply this time, truly touched. "Thank you, Daniel. But...well, then this is your fault," I say, nodding to the blankets. Daniel frowns at me and then, glancing at the bed again, he groans and tilts his head back as he realizes I'm right. "I told him to be nice to you," Daniel mutters, looking down at the floor. "Not to...nevermind, Fay. We're changing the subject!"

And so we do. Daniel and I chat leisurely for a while, going about our normal morning routine, and I'm very pleased to see that things easily return to normal. I'm starting to feel lighter now - I'm back on good terms with Kent, I've had a good laugh with Daniel. It seems like the start of a very good day.

Before long, a knock comes at the door.

"Clothes," Daniel says, interrupting the story he was telling me and heading to the door to receive our morning delivery. When he comes back into the room, though, I'm surprised to see a breakfast tray in his hands with a little white note on top as well as a bag which, presumably, holds our clothing.

"Oh," I say, surprised. "What's this?"

Daniel doesn't reply, simply places the food on the desk and drops the bag to the floor, reaching for the note. He rips it open and quickly reads it aloud. "Breakfast in the room today - don't come down until noon. Please," Daniel looks up at me in surprise. "Kent wrote please. What did you do to him?"

"Do you really want to know?" I ask innocently but he pretends to gag again and turns over the note, looking at both sides for more.

"Wish he wasn't so cryptic," Daniel murmurs, tossing the note back down on the tray and pressing down on the little French coffee press so that we can both have a cup.

"It's part of his charm," I sigh, reaching out a hand for the cup of coffee that Daniel's preparing for me.

"If you two are going to be like this," Daniel says, his voice wary as he passes his coffee cup over to me, "all disgusting and obsessed with each other -"

I burst into laughter as I take the cup from him. "That's the second time you've said that, Daniel," I say, shaking my head at him as I take my first delicious sip. "We're not obsessed with each other -"

But Daniel just raises his eyebrow at me. "Seriously, Fay?" he asks, his voice disbelieving.

"What?" I say, lowering my coffee cup, not understanding. "Seriously, what?"

Daniel's face breaks into a big smile then.

"You'd better tell me!" I shout, laughing now but also a little nervous. "What are you talking about!?"

"Fay," he says, crouching down before me so that we're eye to eye, his own coffee up balanced lightly between his hands. "Please, please hear me way I say this. I don't know why on earth you haven't figured it out yet, but Kent? He is obsessed with you."