Fall For My Ex's Mafia Father novel Chapter 29

Kent looks down at me with a withering look. I work hard to keep my face straight, but I feel so terribly awkward that I open my mouth to say something else – anything else -

Daniel saves me. He links elbows with me and pulls me closer. “My mom died when I was young,” he says casually. “Her marriage to my dad was actually arranged,” he notes cheerfully. “Like ours.”

“Oh!” I say, looking between Kent and Daniel, genuinely surprised. “Um, was her death…an accident? An illness?”

Kent sighs and looks at me sharply. “If you want to ask, Fay, if I murdered her, or she died in a gunfight, or was kidnapped and tortured by my enemies, just be forthright about it.”

I press my lips together, embarrassed. Because of course, that’s exactly what I want to know. I say nothing.

“Cancer,” Daniel whispers beside me. I feel sadness flood me, then, and open my mouth to tell him how sorry I am, but he stops me with a smile. “It’s okay,” he says. “It really was a long time ago. Dad and I are all patched up.”

“Well,” I say, turning to smile at Daniel again. “I guess that’s something else we have in common. Both of our moms died young.”

“Rather a macabre thing to bond over,” Kent says dryly, putting his hands in his pockets. “But you will start a new family soon.”

I wonder at the truth of that, but before I can say anything, Fiona pulls me forward to try on the first gown.

The fittings take all afternoon. At first it was fun, playing princess, but after a while I get tired of fighting my way through yards and yards of tulle. Daniel and Kent leave immediately as the trials begin.

Daniel didn’t want to see the dress, insisting that it was bad luck, and Kent only wants to come in once the final selection is made. He said that if he’s paying for it, he wants final approval.

“Okay,” Fiona says, studying me in the last dress. She holds up the beaded Oscar de la Renta that was our other top choice, an incredible off-white beaded silk that fell heavily to the floor and made a fantastic shushing sound as I walked.

“This one?” She indicates the Oscar, “or that?” She gestures towards the incredibly romantic Caroline Herrera dress that hugs my waist with a tight bodice, the off-shoulder sleeves flowing down in to the flowing charmeuse of the skirt, which sweeps behind me in a five-foot train.

“This one,” I say, a little breathless, staring at myself in the mirror. I had never really been the kind of girl who dreamed about her wedding before, but in a dress like this? I am actually starting to feel like a bride.

“Oh thank god,” Fiona says, wiping a tear from her eye. “That was my favorite too. If you’d picked the Oscar, you’d have broken my heart.”

I laugh a little as she picks up her phone, texting someone. I realize, suddenly, that she’s messaging Kent – telling him to come down for final approval.

When the door opens, I turn to face him, biting my lip, wondering, passively, if he’ll approve.