Fall For My Ex's Mafia Father novel Chapter 24

The party ended quickly after that. Alden left after one drink and, afterwards, since the apparent draw of the evening was gone, all of the rest of the guests began to filter out as well.

As I watched them all leave – none saying a word to me, though they certainly looked me – I wondered about the point of this party.

Why had Kent wanted to introduce me to my father in front of all of these people, instead of in private? It certainly hadn’t been a party to celebrate me. Instead, it was more like a proof of life. Kent was demonstrating to the world that I exist – and that I’m in his power.

I stare down at the diamond on my finger, twisting the ring back and forth, seeing how it catches the light. Even though I’ve changed and into a pair of leggings and a super soft sweater – honestly, how do these clothes keep showing up in my room? – I don’t have the heart to take the ring off.

It's just so beautiful. I’ve rarely had anything really pretty in my life and this was…stunning. And priceless, I think.

Maybe if I run away, I can sell this at a pawn shop and use the money to get to Europe, where Kent and my father can’t find me.

I grimace at the impossibility of all of that, though. I don’t even have a passport.

As I stare at the ring, I realize that I had higher hopes for that meeting with Alden. My father. I had kind of hoped he would be my ticket out of the Lippert house, maybe even to a place where I’d have a better chance to get back to my normal life.

But after this evening I realize that I’m just as much of a pawn in Alden’s world as Kent’s. And after seeing his crazy mood swings, I’m not sure Alden would be a better choice. Kent can be cruel, but at least he’s always in control.

Suddenly, outside of my door, I hear a huge thump and a groan. What –

I jump up from the bed and stare at the door, expecting it to swing open like it always does.

But nothing.

I hear the groan again.

Scared, but needing to know, I run to the door and pull it open.

I gasp at the sight before me.

Kent Lippert is laying on the ground of the hallway, groaning, his eyes pressed closed as he clutches his chest.

“Oh my god!” I say, looking either way down the hall for help. No one’s there.

I fall to my knees beside him, reaching out to quickly feel for a pulse at his neck.

“Kent,” I say, “are you all right?”

“I’m. Fine.” He says, teeth gritted.

My eyes flick to his face because – obviously – he is not fine. But I’m relieved that he’s conscious, at least. I hesitate, trying to remember the First Responder course I took in college.

“What’s wrong? Are you having pain in your chest, your left arm?”

“I’m fine –“ he says again, his eyes still pressed shut as he begins to pant. He tries to sit up but I put hands on his shoulders, pressing him down to the ground.

“Just stay still,” I say, my head whipping around, still looking up and down the hall for help. Still, no one appears. How can I possibly be the only one who noticed!?

“I’ll go for help,” I say, rising to my knee, but he grabs my wrist.

“Fay,” he says, opening his eyes a little to squint at me. “Don’t go anywhere. Tell no one.”

“What!?” I hiss at him, appalled. “Kent, you could die –“

“I’m not going to die,” he grumbles, forcing the words from between his clenched teeth. “This happens sometimes. It will –“

He groans before forcing out the last word in the sentence.

“Pass.” He rests his head back against the floor, squeezing his eyes shut and grimacing in pain.

I gape at him. Is he serious? Is this honestly a common thing for him?

“Well, what can I do to help?” I ask, still frantic.

He opens one eye and looks at me, clearly annoyed. “Go away, that’s what you can do.”

“What!?” I stare at him. Was he crazy? “Kent, you’re probably having a heart attack –“

Suddenly, footsteps sound in the hall below. He freezes, tries to sit up, and then groans in pain as he cannot. “Fine,” he says, looking at me. “You want to help? Get me into your room.”

“What!?”

“Stop saying what,“ he growls, trying again to sit up. “Just help me!”

I hesitate and then get to my feet. I move behind Kent as he sits up and hook my hands in his armpits. Then, I heave with all my might, pulling him towards the open door to my room. Kent helps as much as he can, pushing with his feet to speed us along.

When he’s fully in my room, I drop him and he collapses again on the floor with a heavy groan. “The door,” he murmurs, and I quickly close it. Then, I lean back against the door, staring at Kent on the floor as he breathes hard.