Ch. 66..70: Fall For My Ex’s Mafia Dad Chapter 66-70

Chapter 66

It's almost dark that evening when I pull up to the gates to Kent's estate. I spent the day with Janeen, planning my next steps, letting the sound of her laugher and warm advice wash over me like a healing balm. I also let her curl my hair into sexy waves and exchange my slouchy sweater and leggings for a pair of tight jeans and a turtleneck, all black. She spent some time doing my makeup too, transforming me into the smokey-eyed femme fatale I felt I needed to be to take this next step.

The gates slide open without hesitation and I pull the car through. Instead of heading around the back of the house to the garages, though, I curve around the driveway and park directly before the front door. I take a moment to steel myself and then step out, looking towards the guard I know will be standing by the door at the top of the steps.

I don't let my surprise register when I see that it's Jerome standing there. Instead, I keep my face blank as I walk slowly up to the door and calmly hand him the keys to the Prius I borrowed that morning. "Next time," I say softly, holding his eye. "I'm taking the Lexus."

He blinks at me, shock and confusion on his face, but I brush past, opening the door myself and leaving it ajar as I walk calmly into the house.

I head directly for Kent's office, knowing he'll be there. I don't bother to knock before I open the door.

He turns his head, glaring, opening his mouth to admonish whoever is interrupting him, but he goes silent when he sees me standing there, my arms crossed over my chest, a set of papers folded in my hand.

I don't say anything as I cross the room to him. Kent just closes his mouth, watching me as I walk. I hold his gaze as I stop before him, my expression blank. Then, slowly, I lean forward and place the signed contract on the desk in front of him. "I'm ready when you are," I purr, looking him directly in the eye.

Then, without another word, I turn and leave him alone in his shocked silence.

As soon as I leave Kent's office, I head right for the kitchen, hurrying my steps. Janeen and I had planned every moment of that - parking at the front of the house, demanding a better car from the guard, delivering the contract to Kent and what I would say as I did it. But now that that's all done I don't have a script anymore and I feel my nerves coming back.

What I know I want is a big glass of wine to take upstairs with me, because I have a feeling Kent isn't going to let this rest tonight and I definitely want something to calm me down before -

I stop in my tracks as soon as I enter the kitchen. Daniel's sitting right there, at our breakfast table, reading a book.

Shit. Daniel.

Honestly, I'd forgotten all about him.

He looks up at me and instantly closes his book, coming over to me. "Fay!" he breathes, relief all over his face as he takes my hand. "Are you all right? Where have you been all day?" "Um," I say, my eyes darting away from him. "I went to see my sister -"

"Good," he says, nodding. "I'm glad you got some time away. Are you all right?"

I look up at him, biting my lip and nodding shallowly.

"Good!" he insists, looking at me eagerly. "Fay, there's no reason we can't turn this around - we don't have to listen to him, we can tear up that contract you signed this morning and start our engagement again, on our own terms." "Um," I hesitate, pulling my hand from his. "Daniel?"

He stops, looking at me curiously. "What is it, Fay?"

But I lose courage, folding my arms awkwardly over my chest. "Nothing," I murmur. "Actually, I'm not feeling well. I think I'm just gonna..."

Daniel takes a slow step away from me, putting his hands in his pockets. "Of course, Fay," he murmurs, his voice worried. "Whatever you need."

I give him a little half smile and then head to the fridge, taking out a bottle of wine and grabbing a glass from the counter. I don't look at him again as I scurry out the door, though I can feel his eyes on me.

"Coward," I hiss, cursing myself as I hurry up the stairs. Damn it, at the first trial of this new, powerful me I totally collapsed. I dart into my room, pressing the door closed and taking a deep breath, closing my eyes as I steel myself.

I know that I owe Daniel more than that. But damn it, Janeen and I didn't plan what I was going to say to him, and he caught me by surprise. But I could do it - I figure out the best way to break it to him that I was leaving him for his dad - "Oh my god," I mutter, flying open. God damn it, but this was so ridiculous.

I move across the room then, opening the bottle of wine and pouring myself a big glass. This was Janeen's advice too - a drink for courage, but not so much that I get sloppy. There was, apparently, a fine balance. But I drink the glass of wine quickly, my hands shaking a little as I glance towards the door.

I don't know if I'm going to be able to find that balance tonight.

I pull a new phone out of my back pocket - one that Janeen gave me this afternoon, one of her "burners," she called it, that she usually uses to text her married clients from the club who want a little more anonymity.

Kent took away my phone when I first got here, but things are different now. I'm not his son's fiancé who needs protection anymore. I work for him now - not just as his girlfriend, but as his spy. And as such, I'm entitled to certain freedoms. Like texting my sister whenever I want.

I send her a quick text now, hoping she can give me a little courage. My stomach is all tied in knots.

Fay: Here now - part one of the plan went just as we want it to! Now, just sitting in my room waiting for him to respond??

A few seconds later, her reply beeps through.

Janeen: You've got this, little sis! Remember - it's about what you want. Don't let him pressure you into moving faster than you want to. Make him wait.

I nod to myself, bolstered by her words. That's right. It's about me now. And I may have agreed to be his - his mistress -

God, I've got to stop getting nauseous when I think that word -

But he does not have any right to make me feel -

I jump as a knock sounds on the door and freeze, my eyes going wide. Oh my god. Was that him? Does he want to...

I hesitate, waiting, but another knock doesn't come. I put my wine glass down and slowly walk to the door.

"Hello?" I whisper, sounding more anxious than I want to. But no reply comes.

I lean down to peak through the keyhole in my door, but I don't see anyone standing there. Curious, I twist the knob and slowly pull it open.

Outside my door sits a white box tied with a red satin ribbon. I look up and down the hallway but there's no one there. I quickly snatch the box, pulling it to my chest as I slam the door closed and lean back against it, my breath coming quickly. Then, my curiosity getting the better of me, I hurry to my bed, quickly untying the ribbon and pulling the top off the box.

I go still when I see that inside there is nothing but a confection of black lace. My blood turns to ice as I run my fingers over it, realizing what it means. As I lift it out of the box, trying to figure out precisely what kind of lingerie it is, a little card falls from one of the folds.

Dropping the fabric, I grab at the tiny piece of cardstock, unfolding it.

The message is very simple.

Put this on with your black Prada pumps. I'll be there in fifteen minutes.

I cover my mouth in shock, shaking my head back and forth as I read it again and again.

Fifteen minutes?

And then what?

 

Chapter 67

About fourteen minutes later, I study myself in the mirror, my stomach a mess of butterflies.

I'm better than I was about twelve minutes ago, though, when I'd been sitting on the floor drinking directly from the bottle of wine, hissing desperately into the phone to my sister while she tried talk me down. Luckily, the combination of alcohol and sister logic eventually pulled me together. "Get your a*s up," Janeen had ordered me, "put on that little outfit, and take charge. You're the boss, Fay, not him."

"Right," I had gritted through my teeth. "Except he's a literal mob boss. And I'm just -"

"Nope," she had interrupted. "Not today. Today you're Fay, mob mistress, who gets precisely what she wants. Right?"

"Right," I had growled, briskly hanging up the phone and grabbing the scrab of lace before heading for the bathroom.

Honestly? It looks really good on me, I think, turning to admire the way the cheeky little bottom of the lace teddy curves around my a*s. I look - well, way sexier than I thought I would.

Suddenly, a light knock comes at the door and my eyes go wide.

Shit. My fifteen minutes are up.

"Just a second!" I call, diving for the bed and grabbing the requested Prada shoes from their place on the duvet. Then, pulling them on, I kick the empty lingerie box under my bed and turn towards the door.

I take a moment to close my eyes and take a deep breath.

You're the boss, Fay, I tell myself, my heart pounding in my ribcage. You're in charge. Not him.

The knock comes again.

I open my eyes.

"Come in," I call. My voice shocks me by coming out calmer, deeper than I expected.

Slowly, the door opens and I see his figure standing there, silhouetted against the bright light of the hall. That's when I realize that I'm standing in complete darkness - apparently the sun had gone down completely while I've been in here. My eyes had just adjusted to the dark.

Kent pauses, looking into the dark room, and then flicks a light switch by the door, turning on two dim sconces that hang on either side of my bed. The room is suddenly suffused with a pale orange light. My eyes go wide in it, seeing him standing there, one hand tucked neatly in his pocket.

We just stare at each other for a moment, neither saying anything, and then Kent steps into the room and quietly closes the door.

My stomach turns over and I do my best to control my breathing, to not let Kent see the anxiety roiling beneath my skin. He slowly crosses the room to stand before me, a jungle cat prowling towards some curiosity it finds in the forest.

"Good evening, Fay," he murmurs, looking down into my face, reaching out a hand to brush a curl back from my shoulder. "You look lovely tonight."

Something about the possession in his gaze riles me, and I'm glad of it. I'd rather be pissed off than terrified. I raise my chin and look boldly up at him.

"Do you like the outfit you've chosen for me? Does it meet your standards?"

He takes a minute to consider me before he replies. "No more or less than everything else I choose for you to wear."

"Really," I hear myself ask, raising an eyebrow. "This outfit...pleases you? The same amount as everything else I wear?"

He cocks his head to the side, looking down at my body, his eyes lingering on my breasts that are delicately cradled by the underwire of my bustier.

"You look beautiful in everything you wear, Fay," he replies, taking a step back from me. He snaps his eyes up to meet mine, though, almost making me jump. "And the answer is yes, if what you're really asking is if I want to f**k you no matter what you're wearing." My breath catching in shock at this blunt admission of his desire. But he ignores me, returning to his study of my body, my clothes. Despite his words, he looks at me like a connoisseur, not a lover.

"Would you turn around for me?" he asks calmly. "I'd like to see the full effect."

I oblige him, slowly turning around for him to see me from all sides. When I turn to face him again, his eye are locked on mine.

"Beautiful," he says. "Stunning, Fay. Thank you."

I don't know what to say, so I don't say anything. I just standing before him, trying not to let my knees shake.

The threat of that only increases when he takes two steps towards me, placing one hand on my waist, his other tilting my chin up towards him.

"Are you sure about this, Fay?" Kent whispers, his voice a caress. "Because if this is just an attempt to call my bluff - I promise you. There is no bluff."

I'm sure he can feel me trembling now that his hands are on me, but I will myself to stare clearly into his eyes. "No bluff, Kent," I say, keeping my voice steady. "I signed the papers. I'll stand by them. But we're going to do this on my terms -"

He laughs at me suddenly, taking his hand from my waist and using it to give me a sharp slap on the a*s.

I gasp, stumbling back from him, shocked.

He gives me a wolfish smile, returning his hands to his pockets. "No, Fay," he says, shaking his head. "My terms. Only my terms. Is that understood?"

I open my mouth to protest, but he ignores me, looking away towards the window as if my objections don't matter.

"I want you to contact Ivan tonight," he demands, his voice all business. "Tell him you want to go to dinner with him tomorrow."

I had opened my mouth to protest his terms and I don't bother to shut it when I hear his order. It just would have fallen open again anyway at this turn. What was - I thought that he -

"What, Fay," Kent pushes, smirking at me and reading my mind. "Did you think I was going to come in here and ravish you tonight?" He slowly shakes his head. "No. With you, I want to take my time."

He turns then and slowly heads towards the door, looking at me when he reaches it. "You'll go to dinner with Ivan tomorrow night, don't take no for an answer. And then, when you're on the date, don't say anything about our plans to have him come to our side yet. Just... be friendly." He smirks at me, letting me interpret that any way I want.

I take a minute to process his command and then nod, letting him know I understand, gathering together my pride. This was my role now, after all. Agent and mistress of the mafia king. I had expected the latter title to come into play tonight but...well, I could roll with these changes. Honestly, I was a little relieved.

"And then," he continues, snapping my attention back to him. "When you come home," he puts an emphasis on the last word, ensuring that I understand that he expects me home tomorrow night, and not at Ivan's house, "there will be another box like this one in your room. I'd like you to wear it. And then wait for me to come to you."

I don't say anything. I just stare at him. Was it going to be tomorrow night, then? When he...

"Do you understand, Fay?" Kent asks, raising an eyebrow at me, clearly pleased with how this went.

I raise my chin towards him. "Yes," I tell him, my voice steady.

"Good," he purrs, his eyes devouring me one last time before he pulls the door open. "I'll look forward to it, Fay. Every minute of it."

Kent pulls the door closed behind him and I fall to my knees, finally giving my legs permission to collapse and tremble all they want. My hands are shaking too as I grab my new phone from the bottom drawer of my desk and call my sister.

"Wait, seriously?" she exclaims, starting in without a greeting. "Is he seriously done? Jeeze, I thought Kent Lippert of all people had more staying power than that -"

"Janeen," I groan, closing my eyes and flopping onto my back on my rug. "Stop getting ahead of yourself. We didn't have sex."

"Really?" she asks, intrigued. "Then what did you do?"

"Nothing," I insist. "Well...he gave me a task to do tomorrow. But I need you. Help me figure out what to do next."

My sister laughs and I can imagine her now, stretching out languorously on her bed. "Sure sis," she says, her voice a little devious. "What do you need?"

So, I tell her everything.

And together, we come up with a plan.

Chapter 68

The next morning, I reach over and grab my cell phone off of the nightstand the moment I wake up, dying to see if Ivan texted me back. It's not my burner phone, or my old cell phone which Kent took, but instead my Kent-approved cellphone, which I'm sure he monitors. But whatever let him look. This is all part of his big plan, anyway. I bite my lip, trying not to smile when I see that I have a message waiting. Eagerly, I click on it.

Ivan: So, has he finally let you out of your cage, Fay? Of course I want to see you. Pick you up at 8.

My smile drops a little as I read this and I sit back on my pillows, wondering why I feel...well, a little disappointed. I stare at Ivan's text, reading it two and then three more times, sorting through my emotions.

And I realize that I'm disappointed because there's a third person in this text, quite present if unnamed. Kent. It's not just me and Ivan's secret liaison anymore.

I drop my phone into my lap as I lean against my pillows to think. I mean, it's never really been just me and Ivan, not ever - Kent and my dad were always involved, and Daniel too. But that afternoon at the bar, during that gap in space and time with only the two of us in it, it was....well, it was really nice.

And, quite frankly, I don't like the idea that this is suddenly a triangle. Kent and Ivan, with me in the middle.

I sigh as I realize, quite suddenly, that I'm being kind of a brat. I'm trying to have my cake and eat it too - to have both Ivan and Kent in my life, but to keep them in completely separate spaces when the reality is that I'm the pawn in their games, not the other way around.

Well.

At least for now.

I smirk to myself just a little and remind myself that I have Janeen in my back pocket, and that she's had loads of experience playing men against each other to get what she wants. And she told me precisely how to handle something like this. If Ivan's going to bring Kent into it, then I'm going to double down.

Eagerly, I pick up my phone again and send off a quick reply.

Fay: No worries, I'll come meet you wherever we're going. Can you send the address to Kent so he can arrange the car?

When I come back from the stables that afternoon, the house is relatively quiet. I frown as I walk down the hall and up the stairs, wondering where everyone is. But I shrug it off as I reach the landing, focusing on my evening and everything that I have to do to prep for it. Shower, then drying my hair, then...

As I turn to my door, though, I stop in my tracks. A little white box is sitting on the ground, propped against it, a black bow wrapped around it this time. My stomach drops when I see it. I glance furtively around, wondering who else has seen it - god, did Daniel see it? Embarrassed, I rush forward, grabbing the box as I press through my door, shutting it briskly behind me.

Then, I turn to the bed and carry my gift to it, placing it gently down on the duvet gently, as if there might be a bomb inside, ready to explode.

As I open the box, I see that there's no bomb in it but...my breath ratchets up anyway as I lay my eyes on something equally dangerous.

There are two garments inside the box, and one note. I reach for the note slowly unfolding it.

For your date, and then for after.

Be home by midnight. I'll come and find you.

"Crap," I murmur, dropping the note, my knees going to jelly. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, trying to lean back on Janeen's teachings. After all, I knew this was coming - I signed up for it. So why do I want to skitter away like some scared little rabbit? I steel myself, clenching my teeth. "Come on, Fay," I murmur to myself, trying to say what Janeen would say. "Be tough."

I exhale sharply through my nose and get back to business. Because it was business, after all - I did sign a contract.

I open my eyes and lift the first garment out of the box. Despite my tough talk just moments ago, my eyes go wide and my breath catches. It's a little smoky-grey dress that...well, it's so skimpy it wouldn't be out of place in the opening scenes of Pretty Woman. "Oh my god," I murmur, looking at the cutouts on the side, the absolute bare scrap of fabric that's supposed to cover my a*s. Then I glance back down at the box and realize...

Oh my god, this isn't even the lingerie.

I look back and forth between the black satin corset and lace panties that are still in the box and the slinky grey dress in my hands, realizing with horror that Kent wants me to wear this out on my date with Ivan -

My cheeks rush with heat as I figure out that Kent is sending me out to Ivan basically naked - dressed in something Janeen would wear on the main stage -

My embarrassment turns quite quickly to anger and to steely determination, though - faster than it has before. I narrow my eyes at the dress, realizing, suddenly, what Kent is doing.

"Fine," I snap, tossing the dress on the bed and stalking into the bathroom. "You want me to go on this date looking like your hooker? No problem, Kent."

I'd just make him pay through the teeth for it later.

Or at least, that's what I say to myself as I turn on my shower and peel off my riding clothes. Because the reality of standing up to Kent...

Well, it never goes quite as I plan in my head, does it?

I only saw Jerome as I left the house. He was at the foot of the stairs as I tottered down them in the six-inch heels Kent sent me to pair with my outfit. Jerome had opened his mouth to say something, but I gave him a withering glare as I made my way slowly down the stairs and he just shrugged, holding out a hand to help me balance.

I didn't ask where Kent or Daniel were as we walked to the garage and he helped me into the car. We're silent now as we drive, our relationship newly awkward. I glance at him, wondering if he knows that I know about him and Daniel, or if this new stiffness is about me leaving him stranded in the road when I left with Ivan the first time.

No answers come to my questions, though, making me sigh. When we pull up to the restaurant - I do a double-take, surprised to see that it's actually the same restaurant that Daniel took me to a few weeks ago - Jerome grabs my hand as I open the passenger-side door. Surprised, I look back him.

"Fay," he says, worry on his face, and I think - some real affection as well. "Just be careful tonight, okay?"

"Okay," I say, giving him a little smile. "Thanks, Jerome." A little warmth spreads through my stomach as he nods back to me. Maybe our friendship isn't totally screwed after all.

Still. I've got business to take care of.

I step out of the car, closing the door behind me, and look around for Ivan.

My eyes go to him immediately and my stomach turns over, instantly filled with flutters. His six-foot, leanly-muscled frame is wrapped, for the first time since I've known him, in a chic black suit, his tattoos peaking over the crisp white collar of his dress shirt. Despite his ease at the valet stand, Ivan is clearly a man of significant power. It seems like everyone's eyes are drawn to him, inevitably, as they pass through the doors of the restaurant.

But Ivan carries his power easily, like a jaguar moving through the jungle, totally confident in his status as predator, not prey. His eyes meet mine and flick over my body and he stands up straight to greet me. A small smile curls at the corner of his mouth. "Hey, Fay," he says quietly as I cross the short distance to us. "You look...nice."

His words check the final few steps I take towards him, making me hesitate and look down at myself. "What?" I ask, looking back up at Ivan with a frown. "You don't like my dress?"

He just shakes his head slowly, still smiling but pausing before he replies. "He's just really got his hooks into you, hasn't he, Fay?"

My cheeks burn in embarrassment and defiance at his words, the regret in his voice.

But as I look back down at myself, in this ridiculous dress and these crazy heels...

Damn it, but I know he's right. I'm Kent's little barbie doll, and he sent me out dressed like this to let Ivan know it.

 

Chapter 69

Ivan laughs a little and shakes his head, coming forward to take me by the arm. "I'm sorry, Fay," he says, and I look up to see real apology on his face. "I shouldn't have said that - you look beautiful."

I'm still blushing, though. I never should have worn this dress.

"Come on," Ivan says, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and nodding his head towards the restaurant. "Let's go get something to eat."

I stop in my tracks, though, realizing - quite suddenly - that I don't want to go in there. I don't want to go to another mafia hotspot, the place Daniel took me because his daddy has connections here, where Ivan was able to get a last-minute reservation because he, too, has connections.

Kent sent me on this date, but I get to decide what happens from here on out. In the end, I'm in control.

Ivan looks down at me, curious about my pause, but I flash him a big smile.

"Actually," I say, eager. "Do you want to go somewhere else?"

He cocks his head, curious. "I thought you wanted to come here."

"Did Kent tell you that?" I ask.

"I told him to send the car to a restaurant I picked, and he said he was sending you here. Because it's your favorite." A slow, dangerous little smile starts to form on Ivan's face.

"Yeah well," I say, wrinkling my nose at him. "Kent doesn't know me as well as he thinks he does."

Ivan simply nods, his smile growing, and raises a hand to signal the valet to bring his car back.

Thirty minutes later, Ivan and I are sitting on top of a picnic table in my old neighborhood, our feet resting on the bench and an enormous spread of tacos set out between us. I directed Ivan to drive here, knowing that my favorite food truck sets itself up on the edge of this little park on Tuesday nights. It's dark out, but the owners have strung up some cheerful lights and are playing some traditional music. It's not a busy night, either, so Ivan and I have the place mostly to ourselves. It is, overall, kind of perfect.

"This is amazing," Ivan murmurs, taking another bite of a carne asada taco. "How did I not know that this place was here?"

I give him a little wink. "Neighborhood secret," I say, lifting my beer to my mouth and taking a sip. "We don't usually let outsiders in but," I give him a surveying glance from head to foot, "for you, we'll make an exception." Ivan smirks at me. "Gracious of you," he says, and then takes another bite, finishing his taco and reaching for another.

I smile, pleased that he approves, and nestle a little further into the warmth of Ivan's suit jacket. He spread over my shoulders when we got here, intuiting that I might get cold sitting outside. I watch Ivan as he eats, observing the tattoos on his forearms that are revealed by his rolled-up shirtsleeves.

"What's this one for?" I ask, pointing to an image of the Virgin Mary on the outside of his left arm. Ivan looks to where I'm pointing and then takes a moment to swallow before answering.

"My dad," he says, looking seriously into my face. "He died, about five years ago."

"I'm sorry," I say, frowning and wondering, suddenly, what his life is actually like. All I know is that he's the ambitious young prodigy of the underworld, and that he's smart and powerful. But I have no idea, really, where he comes from or who he loves.

"It's all right," Ivan replies, shrugging it off. "We all have our trauma. He was a good guy." He gives me a little smirk as he looks me in the eye. "He'd have liked you, though, for sure. He loved redheads."

"Yes, well, we're quite irresistible," I murmur, flipping my hair back over my shoulder and pretending a haughtiness I don't really feel. I'm rewarded with a laugh and I grin back at Ivan.

"Irresistible for sure," he says, always the flirt as he looks down at the table and reaches for another taco. "But also, apparently, a woman of mercurial affections."

My breath hitches a little at this - what does he mean by that? Suddenly, I'm terrified that he knows, somehow, about me and Kent - about the plans I have for later - commands, really - to meet him after midnight. "What do you mean?" I ask, anxious but trying to keep my voice nonchalant.

Ivan glances up at me as he brings a plate of shrimp tacos into his lap, totally at ease. Then, he raises his left hand and wiggles his fingers at me. "No ring," he says, and I glance down at my own hand to realize that he's right - I'm actually not wearing Daniel's ring tonight. "Everything all right with you two?"

I hesitate, wondering how to play this. I actually hadn't left the ring at home on purpose - I just...hadn't remembered to put it on after my shower. But could I use this to my advantage? Do I want Ivan to know that I'm free? I hesitate inwardly, wondering what Janeen would do.

"Sorry," Ivan says, and I look up into his face to see that he really means it. "I didn't mean to touch a sore subject."

"No, it's okay," I respond breezily, giving him a little smile. "It's just...Daniel is having a little....trouble. Being faithful."

I mean, it wasn't a lie. And Janeen said to stick to the truth as much as I can.

"Oh," Ivan says, his eyebrows going up in genuine surprise. Then he puts his plate of tacos back down and pushes all of the food to the back of the table so that he can scootch closer to me. "His loss," he murmurs, his eyes drifting down to my mouth. Suddenly anxious, I turn my head away from him and lift my beer to my lips, taking a sip. Ivan takes the note and leans back a little. "I actually don't know a lot about Daniel," he says casually. "I know he's in school, but he keeps a low profile as far as mob heirs go. He doesn't seem as...involved, as other sons might be."

"Yeah, well," I reply with a little bitter smile. "Apparently he's got other things on his mind besides Kent's work and marrying me."

"Oh?" Ivan pushes. "And what's his style there? Does he have lots of girls who he sees for a short time, or just one serious side piece?"

I blink at Ivan in surprise, realizing that he's pressing me for information. Simultaneously, I grasp that I actually do have information on Kent's heir - dangerous information that very few people have. And Ivan's looking for it.

And quite suddenly, I don't want to give it. Daniel is still my friend; his secrets are safe with me.

"Can we talk about something else?" I ask hesitantly, giving Ivan a sad little smile that I hope suggests my reluctance stems from a sore subject, not because Ivan is coming dangerously close to some serious dirt.

"Of course," he nods, again apologetic. "I'm sorry, Fay. I haven't been the most tactful tonight, have I? I didn't mean to pry...I'm just," he shrugs a little. "Genuinely curious about your life."

I bite my lip, deciding to push this a little bit. "Are you, though?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

Ivan goes still, staring at me, waiting for me to continue.

"I mean," I start awkwardly, looking down at my beer. "I know that the dive bar that you took me to was filled with people from all of the underworld families. That was embarrassing for me and it caused a real rift between me and Daniel when he heard, from multiple sources, that I was out flirting with you. And whatever Daniel and I are to each other, I do care about him."

I look up into Ivan's face with real hurt in my eyes and see guilt pass through his own. He's either a crazy good actor or...maybe he actually feels bad, actually cares, at least a little, about how I feel.

"I like you, Ivan," I whisper, the truth spilling out despite myself. "I like you...maybe a lot? But I don't know if I can trust you, or if any of this is real, or if you're just using me to get a leg up on Kent."

Ivan nods, breathing out of his nose and looking down at his feet. He gives a sharp shake of his head. "You're right, Fay," he sighs. "I shouldn't have done that. It was....a little bit of a coup for me, to be able to shove it in Kent's face like that." Ivan looks up at me again, giving me a little smirk. "And I know you enjoyed that part a little bit too."

I blush, looking down at my beer as I remember what resulted from me shoving that day in Kent's face like that. I remember Kent pushing me up against the door, his lips hot on mine - I remember moaning into his mouth and pulling him tight against me, wanting more. Ivan probably doesn't know precisely how much I enjoyed it.

"But I'm sorry," he continues, using one finger under my chin to turn my face gently back to his. "If it means that I lost your trust, then I wish I hadn't done it. Because, whatever's here, Fay..." he shakes his head lightly, and I know that that little shake contains a wealth of emotion, "it's real for me. And I hope it is for you too."

I bite my lip, not wanting him to know that...well, that it's real for me too, despite myself.

"Damn it, Fay," he whispers, his eyes on my mouth again, where my teeth press into my lower lip. "You make it hard for a guy to be chivalrous when you do that."

Slowly, I let my lip drag out from beneath my teeth, my mouth open just a tiny bit. I swear a very tiny shudder passes through him.

"Whatever you want, Fay," he murmurs, bringing his eyes back to mine with an effort. "It's on your terms now. I promise, anything that happens between us is just for us." He takes a moment and then repeats his vow. "I promise. It's whatever you want." And suddenly, I know precisely what I want.

I raise my hand and place it, gently, on the side of his neck, my skin humming at the touch of his own against my palm. And then I pull his mouth to mine.

Chapter 70

Ivan drops me off almost precisely at midnight.

In the car, he leans over to give me one last kiss goodnight, but I put a hand out to stop him.

"Please," I say, my eyes sad. He pulls back, surprised, but then his eyes flick up to the house, maybe thinking about Daniel - my apparent fiancé - waiting inside.

"All right," he whispers, giving me a warm little smile. Then he takes my hand in his and raises it to his lips, pressing a lingering kiss against my knuckles, just as he did that time at the bar. "I want to see you again, Fay. Soon."

I nod, giving him a half smile, but I don't say anything as I step out of the car, my mood strange and taciturn. I wave as Ivan pulls away but I don't turn and head into the house immediately. Because frankly, I'm not sure I want to be here, and I know what's waiting for me inside.

Because tonight, with Ivan?

Tonight was just...amazing.

Ivan and I spent the entire night outside the taco truck, not needing anything more than some good food and cheap beers to fuel an entire night of conversation. Or at least, we spent a lot of it talking.

We also spent a great deal of the time making out. And it was great.

It's just - I didn't realize how much I wanted a night like tonight with a guy like Ivan, and how much I had missed it, even though I've never really had it before except in my imagination. Ivan never, ever would have fit my image of Prince Charming - his tattoos, his dangerous job, and crazy lifestyle definitely would have put him out of the running. But in other ways? He...kind of fits the bill.

I mean, tonight? We laughed, and we kissed, and I could tell that he wanted more but he never, ever pushed me to go further than I wanted to. Instead, he let me explore the contours of him at my own pace, and I liked it.

I liked pulling his face down to mine, opening my mouth to him. I liked the feel of him exploring me with his tongue and his hands. I liked the way he pulled me closer to him, letting me know that there's more here to for the taking if I want it, but only if I want it and at my own pace. By the end of the night he'd had me feeling so comfortable that I'd somehow found myself sitting in his lap, running my fingertips through his bleach-blonde hair, his broad hand slipping down the outside of my thigh and getting dangerously close to my a*s as he made me laugh so hard my face hurt.

And the whole time, I never felt on the edge of anything - never felt scared, or pushed. Just felt...well, amazing.

And as I turn to stare up at the door to this house I realize...that it's nothing like the way Kent makes me feel. At all, ever.

And I have no idea if that's good or bad.

Or, frankly, which one I like more.

I steel myself as a shiver runs through me. Realizing that I'm starting to get cold standing out here pondering life, love, and relationships, I start up the steps and pull the jacket more tightly around my shoulders -

And then gasp. Oh my god.

I'm still wearing Ivan's jacket.

I groan and quickly shrug it off - I can't walk into Kent's house, for our...our appointment -

Wearing some other guy's jacket -

I look around, desperate. Should I just like, shove it behind a bush or something? But no - the gardeners will find it there, and word will get back to Kent somehow -

I quickly ball the fabric up and stick it under my arm, realizing that my only choice now is to take it with me. Silently, I pray that nobody's in the foyer when I step into the house.

I get lucky - no one's around as I run up the stairs, my stupid heels clacking loudly as I go. I hurry into my room, pressing the door closed before I dash to the wardrobe and shove Ivan's jacket into the back corner. I mean, it's by no means a secret there but... whatever. It's all I can do right now.

I take a deep breath as I sit on my bed, reaching down to unbuckle the clasp of my shoe and eyeing the lingerie still sitting on blankets. How the hell am I supposed to even get a corset on with no one to lace it -

"Welcome home, Fay."

I shriek and leap up from my bed, spinning around looking for the source of the voice, which has a slight mechanical tone - but there's no one here -

"Please get changed," the voice says again, and I recognize it as Kent's voice as I narrow in on the source - the intercom on the wall, by the door. God, I hadn't even known that it worked. "When you're ready, go upstairs to the third floor. I'll meet you there in fifteen minutes."

I go perfectly still, my eyes wide as I stare at the intercom and start to comprehend his words.

The...the third floor? With the locked door?

What the hell is up there?

There's a long pause and then the voice comes again.

"Are you there, Fay? Do you understand?"

I stumble into action, crossing the room and hesitating as I push the red button on the intercom, hoping it's the right one. "Um," I say awkwardly. "Okay? Sure?"

"Good," he replies immediately, pleased. There's a long pause before he continues. "I'm looking forward to it."

My hands are shaking as I step back from the speaker. Hell, my whole body is shaking now.

Because as great as my night with Ivan was, it was always leading to...this.

Kent.

And our contract.

Our deal.

And I had to meet him on the third floor in fifteen minutes.

"Shit," I whisper to myself.

What the hell had I gotten myself into?

Ten minutes later, I've swapped my grey dress for the corset and panties that Kent left for me, and I'm standing frozen at the door which blocks the third floor off from the rest of the house.

The corset pinches me uncomfortably at the waist but...damn, when I had looked at myself in the mirror, I understood why Victorian women sacrificed the structure of their inner organs for this. The boning inside the black satin gives me curves like I've never seen. I look almost indecently sexy, which is a new experience for me. And which, I suppose, is what Kent wants.

My breath comes short as I stare at the knob on the door. The last time I tried this, the door was locked. And considering how many people Kent has in this house every day who basically have free run of the place, if it's locked, it means Kent really wants to keep it private.

I gather up my courage and reach out to twist the knob, shocked when it turns easily in my hand.

As I push open the door, a little thrill of terror runs through me. And honestly? I can't tell whether I like the feeling of it pulsing through my veins or not.

But I swear to god my heart stops completely when the door fully opens and I finally see what is inside.