Ch. 86..90: Fall For My Ex’s Mafia Dad Chapter 86-90

Chapter 86

"Oh my god," I mutter, my mouth full of crab cake, my eyes almost rolling back into my head with how delicious it is. "This is...seriously, how do they get such good seafood up in the mountains? This tastes like it was caught this morning!"

"I think it was," Ivan replies, equally intent on a lobster tail. "I think they've got a guy whose whole job is to drive up from the shore in the mornings with the freshest catch. Then he goes back at night."

"A lot of lonely hours on the road," I murmur, nodding seriously, "but he's doing God's work."

I take a final bite and then, groaning, lean on the backrest of the queen-sized lounge positioned on my father's third-floor deck, looking out over the scenery. We're eating al fresco tonight and the view is...amazing. Just treetops and mountain peaks as far as the eye

can see.

As much as I resent my father - my cheek still carries the phantom sting of his slap - I have to admit...his taste in vacation property is flawless.

Ivan leans back next to me on the lounge, our shoulders brushing. He holds out a beer to me, fresh from the cooler at his side. Smiling, I take it, twisting off the top and taking a swig.

"So," I say, leaning into Ivan and giving him a little nudge with my shoulder. "What do we do now?"

Ivan pauses and then turns his head slowly to me, his eyebrow suggestively raised, and I swat at him, cackling with laughter. "Seriously, a couple of crab cakes and you think you're going to get me in bed!?"

"Crab cakes!" he insists, laughing with me, "and a multi-million-dollar property!"

"Which is more mine than yours!"

"Details," Ivan mutters, flicking a hand to dismiss my point as he brings his beer bottle to his lips, "semantics. Not important."

"It is pretty here, though," I sigh, my laughter fading to a happy hum in my chest. "Thank you for bringing me."

We sit there for a long time, chatting about nothing, as the sun fades over the horizon and stars take the sky. I smile when I see a few early fireflies flitting their way through the treetops, the swoop of bats and owls as they start their nighttime prowl. I shiver, a little, as the evening grows colder, and Ivan wraps a warm arm around me.

I lean into him and then feel a twist of discomfort in my stomach when I remember...well, that someone else was keeping me warm with their body heat just a couple of hours ago.

God, I wonder suddenly, am I a slut?

My mind starts to race, my body going tense as I consider the fact that I'm letting Ivan hold me on the deck of my father's house when only a few hours ago, his enemy - my boss, and maybe... my boyfriend? - was... God. Maybe I am a slut.

Is it a bad thing to be a slut? I wonder frantically. Should I be sitting here, slut-shaming myself, or should I like Janeen says - just give in to the impulses of my body and not bother with puritanical questions of shame - "Are you all right, Fay?" Ivan asks gently.

I blink back to myself and realize that I'm panicked a little bit - breathing harder than I should be when I'm just relaxing on a deck drinking a beer. My body is tense against Ivan's. No wonder he noticed - how could he not?

"I'm okay," I reply after a moment, deliberately making my muscles unwind. I give Ivan a wan little smile.

He studies me carefully, sweetly, frowning a little. "Can I hazard a guess?" he asks.

I tense again - can he know, like Jerome did? Can he tell that this morning -

"This world is getting to you a little bit, isn't it?" Ivan speculates softly. "It's not an easy place."

My breath leaves me in one big relieved exhale. "Yes," I say, relieved that Ivan is not as perceptive as Jerome. "Yeah it's...it's been a lot, lately." I work to give him a smile and fail a bit. Ivan raises a hand to my face, his fingertips cool and a little damp from the condensation of his beer.

"Well then," he says, smirking at me. "Forget about it. For a little bit. For just one night."

"Forget about it?" I echo, disbelieving. "Fat chance there -"

"Seriously, though," Ivan says, grinning at me. "We'll just forget about our lives for a couple of hours. Be two totally different people. Leave it all behind. Hi, my name is Rodrigo," he says, his smile growing as he holds out his hand to shake mine. "Pleasure to meet you."

I laugh at his stupid little game, shaking my head, hesitating. He reaches out and takes my hand, though, lifting and lowering our clasped fingers in a forced shake. "Come on," he whispers. "Try it."

"Nice to meet you Rodrigo," I murmur, flicking my eyes up to him, smirking a little.

"I'm a lion tamer," he says, pitching his voice lower as he takes on his role. "I spend my days taming wild beasts and my nights...taming wild women. And who are you?" he asks, holding my hand tight. "Come on, Fay," he urges in a whisper, giving me a little nudge with his shoulder when I hesitate. "You can be anyone."

I tilt my head back, giving into it, my hair falling back over my shoulders as I look up into the sky and consider my options. "I'm Sister Mary Alexander," I say finally, smiling to myself as I decide. "I'm a Benedictine nun. I make fancy marzipan and sell it on the streets of Austria to raise money for the orphans under my care."

"Fay," I hear Ivan whisper, snapping me out of my imaginary wanderings and drawing my gaze immediately back to him. I blink in surprise when I see a smile stretched across his face from cheek to cheek. "You're so weird," he says, shaking his head at me a little, a laugh starting in his chest.

"What!" I gasp, "you said I could be anyone I wanted -"

"That's right," he laughs, his grin growing, "you can pick anything in the world - any fantasy at all - and you pick a nun?"

"What!" I protest, leaning forward and laughing with him, joy running through me. "I liked The Sound of Music a lot when I was a kid -"

"Oh, so did I," Ivan agrees eagerly, his words overlapping mine as he reaches out to grab me, pressing his hand against my lower back, "you actually hit the nail on the head, Sister Mary -" he mumurs, pulling my body closer to him so that I'm laying flat on the lounge and he's curved over me. "This is actually working for me -"

"What!?" I shout, aghast - laughing through my shock - I was going for the opposite of that - the least sexy thing I could think of -

"Oh yeah," Ivan nods, smirking down at me, moving the hand on my back to graze the side of my ass and move briskly down my thigh, his fingers teasing at the edge of my skirt, "I went to Catholic school - I've been fantasizing about this for a long time -" "What?!"

"Mmhmm," he continues, "do you think you could say the rosary for a little bit, and like, look at me disapprovingly? Or, actually, could you get a ruler and slap me on the wrist - just a couple times -"

I'm laughing so hard now that I can feel tears pricking at my eyes. Ivan goes along with me, our bodies shaking against each other at the ridiculousness of it, and suddenly I find myself a little bit in love with his sense of humor, his ability to take anything and twist it and make it fun.

"Well, Rodrigo," I murmur a moment later when my laughter fades a bit. I'm smiling up at him, not allowing myself to think too much about what I'm doing as I raise my hands to run them through his blonde hair, my eyes roving over the tattoos on his neck, suddenly wanting, very much, to see the extent of them printed on his arms and his chest. "What do a lion tamer and a chaste nun do next? I don't have any animals for you to tame. And there are no wanton women here."

"Aren't there, though?" Ivan murmurs, dipping his head to press his lips softly against my clavicle.

"No," I whisper, closing my eyes and letting my head fall back, clearing the path for him to kiss his way up my neck.

A shiver runs through me as he does it, as he runs his mouth over the length of my jaw. "Liar," he whispers, the word just tender breath against my ear.

 

Chapter 87

I can't help myself, then, as I turn my face to Ivan, a tiny moan on my lips that he snatches away with his mouth on mine.

I kiss him without remembering to breathe, so hungry for him that I forget myself - hungry for his joy, his laughter, his ease and his jokes - the way he lets me escape the rest of my world and lose myself in him. Ivan's mouth is hot against me as he wraps me in his arms, twisting his body and me with it so that I'm all tied up in him, his back now flat against the cushions and my chest pressed on top of his as I take control of the kiss. His hands feel like they're everywhere, all over my body, and I want them there - and I slip my own hand beneath his shirt, feeling the flat stretch of his stomach, the ridge of the v of his muscles as they disappear into the top of his pants -

But suddenly I gasp, pulling away - remembering another stomach - another stupid pair of pants -

I sit straight up, aghast, staring down at Ivan.

"Fay," he says quietly, sitting up, looking at me with concern. "What's wrong?"

I just stare at him, appalled at myself. How could I - Kent was -

"It's all right," Ivan whispers, putting out a tentative hand and brushing a curl of my hair behind my ear. "It's okay. We don't have to. Do you want to - go inside?"

"No," I breathe, shaking my head, my body starting to calm down.

Because, of course, Ivan isn't going to make me do anything I don't want to. I realize that, as I stare at him.

The real problem is that I...I don't know what I want. And with everything that happened with Kent - the intensity that grew between us until it broke - until he broke - I hadn't realized...that maybe this, with Ivan... Maybe this is what I want? Want more?

Or...is it just Ivan is the one in front of me right now...and after twenty-some years of celibacy something has broken in me and I just want to have s*x with everyone -

I sigh and hang my head, shaking it, so terribly confused. "No," I say, closing my eyes and letting myself rest. "Can we just...can we just stay out here?"

"Of course," Ivan responds instantly, leaning back against the cushions and looking at me with concern. He takes my hand and tugs on it, inviting me to come close and relax. I move to sit next to him, putting my head on his shoulder, knowing that he'll let me take the lead. That he won't push.

We're quiet for a long minute, Ivan reaching for two more beers from the bucket and handing me one. I take it, giving him a little smile, truly grateful that he's...well, that he's being so nice to me.

"So, Rodrigo," I say with a little sigh. "Tell me how you grew up."

And he does. Ivan invents a long story for Rodrigo for me, of his childhood raised by panthers and his early years in the sands of the Sahara, including weird twists and heart-wrenching turns that have me laughing long into the night. A few hours later, my head still pillowed on Ivan's shoulder, I fall asleep listening to the sound of his voice.

The next morning the dawn light wakes me, rudely peeking through my lashes and invading my sleep. I rub my eyes, the early-morning air cold and dewy against my skin, and look to Ivan slumped against my side, still asleep.

I smile as I look at him and raise a hand to softly brush his hair back from his handsome face. Ivan flinches a little at my touch and then I watch him blink awake. As he does I think about the intimacy of that of watching someone wake up, of their body still pressed to yours.

"Hey," he says, his eyes falling on me.

"Hi," I whisper, unable to keep the smile off my lips. It comes, unbidden, whenever he looks at me like that.

"You're pretty," he mumbles sleepily, lifting a lazy hand to tug one of the rumpled stands of my hair.

I laugh a little, opening my mouth to deny it, but I'm interrupted by the sound of the sliding door opening to the deck. We both flinch a little, turning towards the man standing there, dressed in black. One of Kent's guys.

"It's time, miss," he says, his voice serious. "He wants you home. Now."

"Oh?" I ask, biting my lip with disappointment. "No breakfast?"

Slowly, the guard shakes his head. I turn my attention back to Ivan, but his eyes are on the guard.

"Can you give us a minute?" Ivan says to Kent's man, using a tone that reminds me that Ivan, too, is the head of a criminal organization. The guard hesitates but Ivan twists his head a little, his mouth tightening, letting the guard know that it wasn't really a question. Sighing, the guard goes back inside, closing the door behind him.

"Can I tell you something Fay? Before you go?" Ivan asks quietly, his voice more serious than I'm used to, and definitely too serious for dawn. "Just between us?"

I cock my head to the side, some instinct in me prodding me to pay attention, so I sit up and look him in the face. This is...different, than the carefree Ivan I know, who always acts like he can handle anything. Instead, now, there's real worry in his eyes. "Okay," I breathe. "Sure."

"You need to be careful, Fay," Ivan urges, his voice tentative. "I wanted to tell you this last night - but we got distracted. And now time is short, so I'm sorry that this is abrupt, but...things are changing in the criminal sphere. Something big is coming- I don't want you to get caught up in it. But you're very close to some of the big players in this war. I'm worried that you could get swept away in it."

I feel myself go pale as I listen to him, fascinated. I knew that there was...discord between the families, but I never thought...

"Are you one of these players, Ivan?" I hear myself ask, my voice steadier than I thought it would be as my mind races to think of Kent - of Daniel -

"I am," Ivan says quietly, nodding slowly and raising a hand to cup my cheek. "I can protect you, if you...if you'll let me."

Slowly, I reach out and take his other hand, needing to know more. "Are you suggesting that...maybe Kent can't?"

"Fay," Ivan whispers, leaning closer to me. "I can't - I don't want to say anything that will make it worse, or get you into hot water at home. But..." he looks at me seriously, his eyes locked on mine. And then he swallows, like he's made a hard decision, and speaks all in a rush.

"Kent's going down, Fay," Ivan insists, moving his hand from my cheek to behind my neck, wrapping his fingers softly in the hair at the nape. "He's on the wrong side of - of everything. You have to get out of that house while you can. If you come with me, I can protect you."

I move away from Ivan suddenly, shocked - scared - glancing over my shoulder towards the door, my heart starting to race.

"No," Ivan says, urgent, his hand slipping from my neck to my shoulder, pulling me back. "Not right now - there's time - everything's fine, I didn't take you out of there last night to like, make a move while you were gone." Ivan shakes his head and I watch him closely. "Just think about it," he concludes softly, his eye wide. And deep down, everything in me tells me that...this is not a play for power. Or if it is, that beneath that play is a real concern for me. A desire to keep me safe.

"Thank you, Ivan," I say, biting my lip. "I will think about it."

And then I lean forward, pressing a kiss to his mouth, letting myself linger for just a moment with my eyes closed, wondering if this...

But then I pull away and stand up. He watches my every move.

"I have to go," I whisper, holding his gaze for - well, maybe for too long.

And then I turn, and leave, nodding to the guards in the house to let them know I'm ready. And as I walk out the door, I know Ivan is behind me, watching my every step.

 

Chapter 88

A hand on my shoulder shakes me awake and I jump, gasping a little bit as my head spins to see Kent's guard sitting next to me in the back seat of the SUV. "Sorry," he says, tentative and pulling away. "I didn't mean to scare you - we're just...home."

"Oh," I say, surprised, turning to see that we are indeed pulling around to the front of Kent's house. "Oh, wow," I murmur, turning back to the guard. "I was really out of it, wasn't it?" He gives me a little smile and a shrug. "Only minor snoring. Minimal drool," he quips, making me laugh.

I narrow my eyes at him a little, working to remember. "Marco...right?" I hazard, and am rewarded with a wide grin on his face.

"You got it, miss," he says, giving me a nod as the car pulls to a stop out front.

"Well, thanks, Marco," I say, giving him a little smile. "For spending the night keeping me safe, and also waking me up before Kent found me slumped and snoring in the back of his car."

Marco laughs, shaking his head and leaning over me to pop my door open. "Any time, miss," he replies warmly. As I climb out of the car I realize that I'm starting to learn the ways of Kent's house more than I thought I was - I'm learning names, patterns. It feels...nice, I think, as the driver - Gianni - comes around the car and lifts my little suitcase out of the trunk. I smile at him as I accept it, pleased when he grins at me in return, and then I turn towards the front of the house.

I stop when I see him standing there, my breath stolen from me a little bit. First because...well, because he looks really good, standing there, clean-shaven in the morning light, already dressed in his finely tailored suit. But second because he looks mad. I sigh, glancing between Gianni and Marco, who don't meet my eyes under his gaze. What the hell did I do this time?

I reach down to grab the top handle of my suitcase, carrying it with me as I climb the steps towards Kent. He watches me come towards him, his arms folded, his face...unreadable. Stern. When I get to the top, close to him, I don't know what to do. Should I...hug him? I laugh a little bit, despite myself, at that impulse. Nothing about Kent right now - his size, his stance, the power radiating off of him, the severe look he's giving me - none of that says "hug me," not at all.

Surprisingly, though, his face softens when he hears my little laugh. "What?" he asks, dropping his hands to his waist and turning his head to the side, just a little bit. "What's funny?"

"Nothing, Kent," I say, shrugging. "It's just...really early to get glared at that intensely. Can a girl get a cup of coffee first?"

Kent blinks at me then, his lips parting a little in surprise, and then he shakes his head, blinking as a little smirk pulls at his mouth. "Come on, Fay," he sighs, reaching out a hand that he places between my shoulder blades, ushering me neatly towards the open door. "Come inside. Welcome home."

Surprised, pleased, I do as he says, only turning back for the little suitcase. "Leave it," he murmurs, continuing to urge me forward. "They should have taken it in for you anyway."

"Oh," I say, glancing backwards at it and then at Marco and Gianni, who seem to be realizing the same thing at the same time. Marco sighs and puts his head in his hands, but I give them both a smile. Kent's back turned, Gianni risks giving me a little wave. Smiling, bolstered by the fact that...well, that I think Kent's guards like me, at least a little bit, I walk with Kent into the house and look up at him. "Did you have a nice night?" I ask, a little desperate to break the silence.

Kent looks down at me for a moment while he closes the door, but he doesn't answer my question. "Did you have a nice night, Fay?"

"Um," I say, my fingers reaching up to tangle in my hair, which I know is...unkempt, after a little - just a little - frisky business with Ivan and a night sleeping outside. Kent's face goes dark as he sees me playing with my hair - something I only do when I'm anxious. Realizing that I'm giving away more than I want to, I drop my hands and fold them neatly behind my back.

"What happened?" Kent asks, taking a step closer to me, glowering down at me so I have to tilt my head back and look up at him. "Did he touch you?"

I frown at Kent then, a little defiance curling in my stomach as he glares at me. "Was he...not supposed to touch me?" I ask. "It was a date, Kent. You knew that when you sent me."

I see anger grow in him then, visible in the flare of his nostrils, the tightening of his jaw, the way his shoulders flex back and his fingers curl towards fists. "I don't want him touching you, Fay," Kent glowers, his voice barely louder than a whisper and dangerous in its depths.

"Well, then what do you want, Kent," I reply, not budging an inch and looking up into his face. "Do you want information? Or do you want me untouched? Because...I'm not sure you can have both."

A rumble sounds deep in Kent's chest and he draws closer to me, but then, to my surprise, he checks himself, backing off and sliding his hands smoothly into his pockets as he looks me over from head to foot. The anger is still there - and, well, the jealousy, if I'm going to put a name to it - but I can see that his curiosity is also peaked. "Upstairs," he commands, nodding to the staircase. "Now."

My mouth falls open a little. Is he...to the third-

"Your room, Fay," Kent clarifies, smirking a little at my hesitation. "I want to know everything you learned, but you need to clean up. You look...rumpled."

I glare at Kent a little, holding his gaze and letting him wonder - for a second - just how I got this rumpled, and then I nod, turning to climb up the stairs. Kent stays close behind me and follows me into my room, closing the door behind me. And then I tell him everything.

Well, not...everything. Some of the details of Rodrigo's life, and Sister Mary's strong, visceral reaction to him, are...not precisely relevant. But the details about Ivan confronting my dad, about my dad apparently apologizing to him and offering the house, of Ivan's warnings this morning? I tell Kent every inch of that. It's my job, after all.

And Kent, to his credit and my surprise, is very businesslike about the whole thing. I move around my room performing my little routines and Kent is quite modest about it all, turning his back to me when I peel my skirt and sweater from my body. When I head for my shower, Kent comes along, leaning against the door frame and looking away as I scrub and continue to recount everything I learned. I watch him the entire time that I talk and honestly I'm a little disappointed that he treats me with such restraint. A little bit of me had been hoping he'd be tempted. That he'd maybe...

But as I climb out of the shower, wrapping my towel around myself, Kent doesn't even look at me, staring out the window instead.

"That's it," I finish, a little lamely. "Um...do you have any questions?"

"I don't," Kent replies, finally turning to me once the towel is wrapped securely around my body. His eyes move over me almost impassively, my body apparently eliciting no reaction from him. "Thank you, Fay," he says, standing up straight and glancing at his watch. "You can take the rest of the day off. I'm sure you're tired after so much work last night."

"It wasn't so bad," I say, letting a little smile find my mouth. "Ivan's...a good time."

There's a little fire in Kent's eyes as he processes my words. But he merely nods and turns to leave the room. I follow Kent into my bedroom and watch him go. He doesn't say a word or look back at me as he opens my door, passes through it, and quietly closes it behind him.

I sink down onto my bed in a huff when he's gone.

What the hell was that?

Did I...did I do something wrong? Does he not like me anymore?

 

Chapter 89

Kent leans against the wall outside of Fay's room for a moment after he leaves, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath through his nose. girl...

That

She's going to be the death of me, that girl, Kent thinks as he clenches his jaw, grinding his teeth. It had been...so f*****g difficult. So damn hard to turn away from her in there, as she pulled every piece of her clothing off and tossed them carelessly to her floor. It had taken a level of self-restraint that, frankly - after yesterday, in the barn - he had thought he'd lost. But he'd done it. He'd refused to look at her as she had walked naked past him, as she climbed into her shower and let the water run all over her body, through her hair, telling him all about her ridiculous night with that boy.

But even as Kent thinks of it now, pushing himself up from the wall and opening his eyes so he can resume his day, he has to admit that Ivan is not ridiculous.

Kent knows that Ivan's romantic relationship with Fay is...inconvenient. He doesn't like, at all, that they seem to have a real affinity for each other. But Ivan, despite the fact that he might actually be drawn to Fay, has figured out that Fay is Kent's Achilles heel. That she is precisely where he needs to strike to get to Kent.

Kent sets his shoulders and walks quickly down the stairs towards his office. If he's going to survive this, he needs to convince everyone outside of this house - and perhaps many of the people within it - that Fay is...less important to him than they currently think she is.

As Kent enters his office, he considers that Ivan, despite his youth, has been playing his cards well. Even if Fay is ignorant of the fact, Kent is well aware that everything that Ivan said to Fay the previous night was designed to be repeated to Kent. It's obvious to Kent that Ivan uses Fay, deliberately and efficiently, to prod Kent, to attempt to get him to move in whatever way Ivan feels will best benefit his organization.

Kent is thus not surprised, as he closes his office door behind him and heads to the desk, that Ivan told Fay - in as genuine a way as he could - that he thinks Kent is on the wrong side of things, that he's going down. But what does surprise Kent is Ivan's offer - twice, apparently - to take Fay away. To protect her.

It is...uncommon - unheard of, really - for one boss to take a woman from another family under his protection without an official tie to her, like an engagement or a marriage. That sort of exchange usually unites those families, not further divides them. But Ivan is clearly continuing to mark Kent as his enemy - he wasn't offering to take Fay as a way to draw himself closer to the Lippert family, to which Fay is clearly showing her allegiance by still living in Kent's house despite the end of her engagement to Daniel. And if Ivan is on good enough terms with Alden that Alden is loaning him vacation properties...why offer to take Fay into his own care? Why not let her father do it?

And Ivan hadn't offered to marry her - Kent knows this, Fay would have told him. So, what the hell was Ivan playing at, offering to protect her but...not reaching out to those who were already doing that job?

Kent grits his teeth harder, staring down at the wood of his desk, trying to figure it out.

Either Ivan actually had feelings for the girl, and wanted to be with her without the ties to the Lippert family that Fay could offer, or...

Or Ivan really did know something that Kent didn't.

And Kent really was in danger of going down, in such a way that would put Fay in the crossfire.

The idea of it - of some kind of blindside attack that could hurt Fay, hurt Daniel - and he didn't even see it coming-

Kent's blood boils at the idea. He curls his hand into a fist and slams it against the desk, making the pens, paper and phone sitting there rattle. Then, he grabs his phone, pressing a few buttons and barking orders down the line. "Marco, Gianni, in my office. Now," he orders before crashing the phone back down.

He needed his spies out there, working. He needs more information, and he needs it now.

Kent looks up a few moments later, surprised to see that Marco and Gianni have arrived back at the office so quickly. But he realizes immediately that it's not his two most reliable guys standing in the door staring at him with rage on their faces. It's Daniel.

"Is she home?" Daniel asks, looking upwards towards the bedrooms of the house, towards Fay's room.

"She is," Kent replies evenly, standing straight and squaring off against his son.

"What the hell are you doing," Daniel growls, still standing in the door, "sending her off with him like that? Letting her go?"

"I needed the intel," Kent replies.

"You're ruining my life!" Daniel shouts, taking a fierce step into the room and slamming the door shut behind him before stalking over to Kent's desk. Kent doesn't flinch, not an inch, instead taking a moment to study Daniel as he crosses the room. He hasn't seen Daniel since last night after Fay left and Daniel is wearing the same clothes he was yesterday. He has dark circles under his eyes and his hair, usually carefully styled, is mussed. If Kent had to bet on it, he'd say that Daniel also slept out last night - and that he had been on a bit of a bender.

But with who? Daniel had never been one to drink alone.

"Am I really ruining your life?" Kent asks, his voice mild. "Or are you doing that all on your own?"

"She's mine, dad," Daniel growls, "she's going to be my wife."

"No, she's not, Daniel," Kent sighs, looking down at his desk and straightening his papers - not because they need straightening, but because he knows it will piss Daniel off to be disregarded.

"She is!" Daniel cries, slamming his fist on the desk as Kent had done moments before, "she's the only thing I've ever wanted! The only person I've ever liked! And you're taking her away from me - and letting f*****g Ivan mess with her, on top of whatever you're doing -"

"Really?" Kent snaps, moving his gaze quickly to his son's eyes again, allowing the anger within him to reignite. "Because if she was so important to you, Daniel, then where were you last night? Because you certainly weren't here." Kent takes a minute to look at his son's clothing again, letting Daniel see him do it this time. "And wherever you were, it certainly doesn't look like you were being faithful to Fay."

When Kent moves his eyes back to Daniel's face he's surprised by the rage he sees there. He had expected shame, embarrassment, but this -

"You're going to ruin her life, dad," Daniel growls, leaning over the desk to bring his face closer to Kent's so that he can see that his son means every word. "And if you do that, I'm going to ruin yours."

Kent leans slowly across the desk, meeting Daniel's fury with his own deliberately cool gaze. He opens his mouth, then, intending to say "try me," but he's honestly surprised when another set of words leave his lips.

"You lost her, Daniel," Kent whispers, his eyes narrowing at his son. "And I'm not giving her back. Go find another beard to pretend to be your wife. Fay is mine."

Daniel stands up stock straight at these words, paling a little, and Kent suddenly realizes what he said. The knowledge he just confessed to knowing, without...without meaning to do it -

Daniel backs away from the desk, staring at his dad, fear stark on his face. Kent merely straightens, watching him go, not letting Daniel see that he messed up. Inside, there's an impulse to reach out a hand to his son - to apologize, to tell him that he's doesn't actually care -

But in reality, Kent knows that this was, in some ways, an act of war between him and Daniel. To be...different, in a family like this, was in some situations a death sentence. And Kent has no intention of punishing Daniel, or making him change, or ever letting anyone else hurt him for who he is -

But in a situation like this, revealing his knowledge as he just did as a way to intimidate and get him to back off? It was every inch a threat.

And Daniel knows it too. He backs towards the door, holding his father's gaze, shaking his head a little bit. Kent's stomach turns as he watches his son twist the knob, leaving the room and closing the door behind him without another word.

It will be fine, Kent tells himself. We've spent too long with that 'secret' between us anyway. It's better to have it out in the open, at least between us.

But a deeper part of him wonders if he's just crossed a line he can't uncross. If he's lost Daniel's trust for good, without meaning to do it. All in pursuit of Fay.

Kent raises a hand to his face, covering his eyes, repeating the words in his mind that he had thought when he left her room. This girl will be the death of me.

He didn't...he didn't f**k up like this before she had come around. He had been in complete control.

But there's no time to dwell on the thought. A knock comes immediately at the door before Kent can indulge in the question any further, or come up with a solution on how to approach Daniel next.

"Come in," Kent calls, dropping his hand, his voice returned to its steady timbre.

The door swings open and Marco and Gianni come in.

"Good," Kent says with a nod, gesturing towards the two chairs across from his desk. "We have work to do. We need more intel - much more."

 

Chapter 90

I lay back on my bed for...way too long. Just laying there, frustrated, staring at the ceiling.

I am also exhausted - I know this by the fuzz that I feel in my brain, the lethargy taking control in my limbs, and my very slightly grumpy mood. It's been...one hell of a 48 hours, if I'm being honest with myself. From my very tense movie night with Daniel, to... everything yesterday, in the stables with Kent. And then last night, with Ivan? I groan, my head spinning to think that that all happened in such quick succession. And frankly, I haven't gotten much sleep throughout all of it - at least not the deep, peaceful sleep, alone in my cozy bed that I know my body is craving.

So I sigh, turning over and slipping under the covers, not even caring that I'm naked, intent on just getting some rest -

But when I do put down my head, curling up on my side and pillowing my cheek against my hand...

Sleep eludes me. God damn it, but I just can't stop thinking.

My eyes fly open and I purse my lips together, frustrated.

I've just got way too many unanswered questions on my mind. Sighing, I flop onto my back and stare at my old friend the ceiling again.

What the hell am I going to do?

Or, beyond that, who do I even like?

It feels like a ridiculously sophomoric question - who do I like - when I'm trying to decide between the heads of two serious crime organizations. But it also feels incredibly important that I answer that question - right now - or I am going to be in one hell of a situation very soon.

Because I know myself - I know that I can't juggle both of them, at least not for long. I don't think it's in me to be...what, polyamorous? Non-monogamous? Whatever the right term is, I know that I can't handle it. Even though my whole life I've been a no-man kind of girl, I know in my heart that if I am romantically involved with someone, I want to be a one-man kind of girl. One person to whom I can really dedicate my affections and who makes me feel safe. The question is: who is that? Kent? Or Ivan?

Or, frankly, someone else? The Prince Charming I've always wanted, but who I just haven't found yet?

And what about Daniel, who is offering me...well, not romance. But a solid, happy life with my best friend. Less tumultuous and confusing than what Kent and Ivan offered, for sure. Daniel is right - some people get together for passion and then are disappointed when it fades. Daniel and I could have a very happy life together. What was so wrong with that?

I groan, not wanting to make a choice, and certainly not wanting this many choices. But despite my recalcitrance, I find myself...thinking about these options, turning them all over again and again in my mind.

Kent, with his dark intensity and that anger deep within him that blows on some sort of coal within me, coaxing it to flame. Kent, who lifts me as easily as if I'm a kitten and pulls me hard against his body, making me feel safe and warm and wanted in his arms. Or at least I thought he wanted me, until he wouldn't look at me today...

I dismiss that, though - I knowing, deep down, that Kent wants me, which is an assurance I don't really have with Ivan. I have the proof of Kent's desire - I've seen him struggle against it for weeks, seen him write up that ridiculous contract in order to build walls between us, walls designed to keep him safe, not me. And a very large part of me wants to break those walls down, to see what I find behind them all. A little thrill runs through me at the idea of Kent loosed from all of the restrictions he places on himself. What would it be like to see him unbound. What would it be like to be with him, totally unleashed...

I blush, thinking of it, and then wonder - is that what I like about Kent? The challenge, more than Kent himself? I groan, feeling guilty, because frankly - it's the opposite with Ivan.

I like Ivan because - as far as I can tell - he gives me himself on a platter. There are no walls, no mystery - just his sincere, funny self. I smile when I think of him, which I don't do when I think of Kent - a smile that echoes the thousand times that Ivan has made me laugh so hard my face aches.

Isn't that, really, what one is looking for? That kind of connection?

And also, he's stupid hot...when I think about what we almost got to last night, about the way his skin felt under my hands, the fact that I could have, if I wanted to, pulled that shirt from his body and inspected the intricacies of those hidden tattoos, the forbidden parts of him...

I groan and turn over to bury my face in my pillow, muffling the sound. God, what was wrong with me? Because I really...really want to do that.

I sigh, my face still tucked away in the pillow, not knowing what to do, when suddenly...

It's as if a little Janeen-shaped devil lands on my shoulder, poking me angrily with her pitchfork. "Why the hell do you need to decide now?" she hisses angrily, putting her hands on her hips. "Neither of them have made you any promises! And you need more information to make this choice! Put yourself first!"

And I twist in my bed, away from my pillow, realizing that...she's right.

I don't need to decide now. I don't have all of the information. I don't even know what either of them are doing - both of them could have girls on the side. Or! I gasp to realize that I could be the girl on the side...

Both Ivan and Kent keep their secrets. I have no idea, really, what either of them are up to in the hours when we're not together.

Suddenly angry, I sit up straight, gathering my sheets to my chest in angry fists.

Imaginary Janeen is right. I need to put me first. I need to do what I want, explore my own feelings, and right now? That means investigating both of these connections more so that I can actually, really make a decision that works for me. And Kent - if he wants to treat me like an employee, like what's between us is just a job, like he did today? Then fine. It's time for me to get to work.

And suddenly I know exactly what I want to do next.

I move quickly, blow drying my hair out into soft waves and putting on just a little bit of makeup. I'm in a hurry, after all. Once that's finished, I reach for the white box that's been sitting on my vanity since I threw it there yesterday morning, when it was delivered with Daniel in the room.

Slowly, I untie the ribbon and pull the top off, biting my lip when I see...

A pretty, seashell-pink set of lingerie, panties and bra made of flimsy silk and lace netting, covered all over with little seed pearls in delicate patterns. As I slip the underwear over my bottom and clasp the bra behind my back I feel...just as pretty, and delicate, and incredibly sexy as this set of lingerie is.

Precisely, I'm sure, the way Kent wanted me to feel.

And then, taking one last look at myself in the mirror, I grab the little fur-lined robe that Kent sent me off of its hook and slip it lightly over my arms, not bothering to tie it. It won't stay tied long anyway, if my plan works the way I think it will. Then, clutching the robe closed, I hurry down the steps, forcing myself not to look around and check the hall to make sure nobody sees me.

If they see me, they see me. I'm not ashamed.

This new self-assurance is tested, a little, a moment later when I reach the landing of the stairs and Kent's office door opens, Marco and Gianni coming out, their faces concerned. Marco glances at me and keeps going, pretending that he didn't see me, but Gianni falters in his steps, a little bit shocked. I take a deep breath and look at him evenly for a moment, but then I move past him.

It's not his job, after all, to judge me.

And I have a job to do.

Luckily, they left Kent's office door open when they left. I walk to the entrance and lean myself against the door frame, peering into the room and watching Kent stand at his desk, looking at his papers.

He's so damn tall, and the way his shoulders fill out that suitcoat...god damn it, but I feel myself starting to ache for him already, deep in my core.

I lift my hand and knock gently at the door with one finger, just a light little rap.

Kent's head instantly spins to me, surprised.

And then I let my robe fall to the floor.

"Well?" I say, standing before him in nothing but the underwear he sent to my room, that he picked out just for me. "I'm ready for my shift to begin, whenever you are."