Fall For My Ex’s Mafia Father

Chapter 8 — Arranged Marriage-1
“That's impossible!” I gasp, staring up at him. “You can't force me to marry
someone against my willl”
He laughs at me, holding me too him, still looking down into my face. “It's
possible if I say it is.”
I press my hands against his chest, trying to push away. “It's 2023! Nobody has
arranged marriages anymore — this isn’t the eighteenth century!”
He laughs again and lets me go. I skitter away from him.
“You're in my world now, Fay,” he says, calmly putting his hands in his pockets.
“The world you were born to. Do you think laws really matter in the underworld,
the world outside of the stupid bureaucracy you've deluded yourself into thinking
keeps you safe?”
My jaw drops open at this arrogance. “I have rights!”
“You have nothing,” he barks, taking a step forward towards me. “The only thing
that matters is power. Which is money. Which is might. You have none of this.
The only thing which gives you anything in this world, Fay, is your bloodline.”
His eyes flick now to the piece of paper which lays crumpled on the floor. “Which
you are so eager to dismiss.”
“But,” I say, falling a few steps back, trying to comprehend this. “There are laws
“Leou o little
no
closer. “And your own recommendation that I stay
imprisoned forever. But here I am,” he spreads his hands out, demonstrative.
“Me, and men like me, Fay? Like your father? We control all of it. So, if I were
you,” he looms over me again. “I'd be a little more grateful that I got you out of
the club and restored you to the life of privilege to which you were born.”
I look up at him, truly terrified now, realizing that my life as I knew it is...
completely gone. With one test, he’s wiped it away.
I'm trapped now, in this world — as the daughter of a don, engaged — oh my god,
engaged — to the son of another. There's no way I'm getting out.
As tears start to drip from my eyes, he shocks me by pulling a handkerchief from
his breast pocket and offering it to me. Slowly, hesitant, I take it.
“There’s much you don't know, Fay,” he says. “But you'll have to learn fast. I've
notified your father — he’s away on business, but he'll be back in two days, and
he'll want to meet you.”
1 gasp, horrified — Alden has almost as bad a reputation as Kent Lippert. God,
what a contrast to my gentle dad, sitting at home. My mind suddenly shifts to
dad, who must be worried about me. I start to cry harder, putting my face in my
hands.
“Please,” I say, my voice hiccupping with tears, with shock, with fear, “please let
me go home — I'm begging you — I just want to pretend it never happened — I'll
never tell anyone —"
“No, Fay,” he says, stern. He glances at the door and I can tell
again.
I stare up at him, the tears still slipping down my cheeks, and feel my emotions
change from desperation and agony to anger.
“You're a monster,” I cry between my tears. “You're ruining three lives tonight, just
s0 you can get your way. A monster.”
Kent shocks me, then, by leaning forward and taking my chin in his hand. He
smiles, bringing his face close to mine, and says, “Did you really think that was
going to work on me, Fay? Calling me names?” He shocks me, then, by lifting his
other hand to my face and wiping away a tear from my cheek with his thumb.
Then, slowly, he raises his thumb to his mouth and slips it inside, savoring the
taste of my tears. “I told you before, I like my kittens with claws.”
Outraged, I try to push past him for the door but he laughs, faster than me, and
puts out a hand that catches me in the chest. Another light shove — as he did
before — and I'm knocked back onto the lounge.
says,
“I'm not completely the monster you think I am, Fay,” he walking casually for the
door. “After all, I'm going to let you say
goodbye.”
B
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Gifts
Chapter 8 — Arranged Marriage—2
He opens the door wide and waves a hand through it. “A car is waiting to take
you to your father’s house, where you will pack a bag. You will say your
goodbyes and then return here, where I will keep you safe until your true father
comes to claim you.”
I stare into his face, pleading in my eyes. “Please. Please just let me go home, let
me stay there. I'll never bother you again.”
He shakes his hand slowly, beginning to close the door, as if the offer is ending
soon. “You can go home and say goodbye, Fay. Or you can just stay here and let
him wonder where you went.”
Made desperate by the sight of the closing door, I get to my shaky feet and rush
towards it, heading out. As I pass over the threshold, Kent murmurs “good girl.”
I glare back at him over my shoulder as a bodyguard takes me by the arm and
leads me down the stairs.
Thirty minutes later, just as the sun is starting to come up, we pull up outside my
small house. I had given the driver the address when we got in. The three
bodyguards who accompany me ride in silence until we arrive, Lippert didn’t
come with us.
I jump from the car and brush past the body guards, throwing myself through the
front door, which is never locked.
“Fay?” I hear my dad’s anxious voice call from the kiteben
crying, as the three bodyguards follow me.
“Oh my god, Fay,” he says, wrapping me up in his arms. “l was so worried —” he
glances the men over my shoulder. “What... what's happening?”
“Dad,” I say, looking up at him, desperate. “Please tell me this is all a mistake that
he’s not my real father —"
“What?” he says, shooting anxious glances between me and the guards, who
stand calmly in the room. They let us have our moment, but their threat is
evident. Time is short.
“Do you know who my biological dad is?” I say, wiping my tears from my face
with the heels of my palms.
“No...” he says, hesitating, and I can sense the lie in his words.
“Dad,” I plead, wrapping my hands in the lapels of his pajamas. “Please, dad, tell
me what you know.”
“It doesn’t matter who your biological dad is, Fay,” he says, looking down at me
seriously. “It never has. I'm your father.”
“Who is he, Dad?” I press.
He narrows my eyes at me. “What do you know, Fay,” he says, his voice low.
“This is dangerous territory — who are these men
66
“Then you know,” I say, shocked, my words hardly breath. “You know the truth —
it's real
My dad pulls me to him, seeking to put me behind him, but the
“We'll go,” dad says to the guards, putting out a hand. “We'll disappear, you'll
never see us again, never have any trouble —*
“No, sir,” one of the guards says. “I'm afraid that's not possible.” With a distinct
look at the other men, all three spring into action. One comes forward, wrapping
his arms around me, locking me within his grasp. I scream and thrash,
desperate.
The other two grab my dad — wrap his arms around his back tie them — a gag in
his mouth — a bag — oh my god a black bag over his head — it all happens in
seconds.
“Let's move,” my guard says, slapping a hand over my mouth, and the two men
lift up my dad and carry him out the front door. Deftly, without being seen, they
tuck him inside the trunk as I'm placed into the back seat of the car.
My mind struggles to comprehend this as I scream and flail against the guards
that climb into the car on either side of me. One wraps his arms around me,
holding me still.
“Miss, if you continue this,” he says, “we'll have to use the chloroform again.
We'd rather not do that.” Within his voice is the unsaid threat, but we will.
I still, then, realizing that this — too — is out of my control. Suddenly exhausted, I
again burst again into tears, burying my face in my hands.
“Back to the house,” the second guard says to the driver. Without a word, he pulls
away from the curb.
E
Chapter 9 — Choose to Betray—1
The car pulls around to the back of Kent's mansion and enters a garage. When I
get out of the car, Kent is standing at the entrance to the house, his arms
crossed.
The guards move to the trunk to remove my dad.
“Why did you do this,” I ask, glaring at the mafia boss.
He looks me in the eye. “Because I knew that if I let you say goodbye, you'd tell
the driver your address and lead us right there.”
I gape, realizing, of course, that I did precisely that.
“Whereas,” he continues, “if I told you that we wanted to take your dad for
leverage, you'd have clammed up and given him a chance to run. Honestly, Fay,”
he says. “You've got to become a little more canny if you're going to survive in
this world.”
I hang my head, suddenly ashamed and exhausted. He's right, I'm too naive.
The guard takes my arm and moves me into the house.
“Take him to the chamber,” Kent says to the guards who carry my dad. Dad
wriggles in their arms, but it's half-hearted.
I twist as the guards take him away, but I'm held tight. “The chamber?!” I call.
“What is —"
I bite my lip. “Please,” I say, begging now. “Tell me what's happening.”
“I am merely gathering all the players in one place, Fay,” Kent says. “We have
word that Dean still has control of your sister.”
I gasp, tears springing to my eyes. “Is she okay? Is she —”
“She's fine,” he says, his face stone.
“Please,” I breathe, “can you get her away from him? She owes him money -he’ll
make her pay for it —
“Why should I, Fay?” He snaps, interrupting me. “What can Fay Thompson give
to me,” he says, “to make it worth my time?”
“Nothing,” I whisper. “I have nothing. But...” My whole body starts to tremble. “I'll
do anything you want.”
“Fay Thompson has nothing I want,” he says, careful. “Fay Alden, though...”
His words drift off and his plan snaps together in my mind. My dad’s freedom, my
sister’s, in exchange...
I stand up straight. “Do I have your word, on your son's life, that if I agree to
this...you’ll let them go? Make sure they're safe?”
He nods slowly, smiling now. “My word, on my family. Your dad and sister will
have my explicit protection.”
I close my eyes and look away, dread filling me as I make this devil's deal. “Fine.”
I say. “I'll do it.”
Lippert snaps his fingers in front of my face, making my eyes fly open. “Fay,” he
says, “your father and sister? They have to believe it. Do you understand?”
I hold his gaze and slowly nod, agreeing.
“Take her upstairs,” Lippert says. “To the guestroom. Get some rest, Fay. I will
have your sister brought here and tonight we will all have a chat.”
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The guard takes me upstairs and
leads me to a beautifully appointed
bedroom. I hear the lock click behind
me and sink onto the bed. I know I
should be trying to come up with a
plan... The content is on
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chapter there!
But Lippert is right. I'm an amateur. He's three steps ahead of me at every turn.
And I'm so, so tired...
Quicker than I would have thought possible, I fall back into a troubled sleep.
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,
A few hours later, I'm awoken by the
sound of the key in the lock. I blink
away my sleep and see a woman
. : “ ”

peeking in my door. “Hello?” she says.
« san .

May I come in?" The content is on
Novelxo.org! Read the latest
chapter there!
I huff a little laugh. “Do I have a choice?”
“No, dearie,” the older woman says, not unkindly, closing the door behind her.
“A shower for you, quickly,” she says, gesturing towards the bathroom.
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I obediently oblige, not seeing the
point in arguing. When I come back,
she seats me at a little vanity and
quietly does my makeup, pins my
hair up in elaborate curls, and
dresses me in a far—too—gorgeous
red gown that falls to my ankles. The
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the latest chapter there!
I study myself in the mirror. The dress is not girly, but neither is it scandalous or
provocative. Instead, when I study myself in the mirror I look...
Well. I look every inch the mafia princess. Rich, poised, a little dangerous.
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