Fall For My Ex's Mafia Father

Kent leans his shoulder against the bars of his cell, his well-muscled arms crossed against his chest.

What was he doing in this local prison, created to catch the overflow of the city’s rampant gangs? He was their king, after all.

And to think, Kent was here by choice.

His lip raises in derision as he shakes his head, wondering if he made the right decision, intentionally getting caught so he could get in here, just for the chance to talk to the warden.

Two blue-uniformed guards walk down the row towards him. “Lippert?” They ask. “Warden wants to see you.” They cuff him and take him to the warden’s office.

Kent sits down on a chair in front of him, wordless, waiting for the guards to leave.

“So,” Sven says, closing his file. “I’m surprised you had the balls to come to my turn for a negotiation, Lippert. It’s brave.”

The public didn’t know it, but Warden Sven not only runs this prison, but leverages his control over it to take a significant stake in the workings of the city’s underworld. He is as dirty as the rest of them, and if other bosses go against him? He locks them up.

Quite a trump card in this world where one of the only things that stops a gangster is a stay in prison.

“I’ll be out soon enough,” Kent responds, leaning back in his chair. “We have to talk about Ivan.”

“Ivan?” Sven looks at him closely. “He’s chicken shit.”

Kent shakes his head slowly. “He’s just a kid, but he’s getting a foot in the heroin game. But because he’s green he doesn’t have the grit or the resources to handle it.” He pauses a moment, taking Sven in.

not coming to meetings of the families, he’s killing at will – made men,

leans back into his chair,

had told him it was foolish to lock himself up for months just for the chance to talk to Sven. But Kent had a gut

It’s a delicate ecosystem,” he says, holding his hands out like

you found a way in. Not everyone would come to my turf, and

him. That’s exactly how he wanted Sven to feel. “Ivan’s a mad dog,” Kent says. “We’ve got to put him down. I’ll provide the muscle; all I

eyes him, considering. “I want eighty-twenty, for my agreement to

frustration show. He doesn’t care if Sven takes it all, honestly – Sven has power, but he’s notoriously low on

shrugs, not agreeing yet, but not pushing the matter further. “What about

running the game, but he’s got some new clue about his lost kid.” He waves a hand, dismissing it. “He’s not going to

cash, but he does trade in secrets. Likely, Alden got the clue from him to begin with. Kent narrows his eyes, realizing that question was

like being tested. “Do

beautiful vineyard somewhere in Europe. “You know, I had a lovely glass of wine the

start to lift in a cold smirk. “You wouldn’t happen to know…anywhere else. Where a man could get a

realizing suddenly that the picture on the wall is a picture of his vineyard, the calendar likely produced as a promotional gift for tourists. Sven knew exactly what Kent would ask even before he set foot in the room, and he knew exactly the price of his

says slowly, narrowing his eyes and staring at Sven. Perhaps not such a clean alliance after all. “The best

that wine,” Sven says, turning back to the picture, all innocence. “I’d like to get a foot in the industry too. Maybe get some property there, some day.”

It’s worth the price.

good meeting. Kent leaves

to your