Fall For My Ex's Mafia Dad

Chapter 0030

“Come on, baby Fay,” she says with a smile. “Let’s go have a drink.”

I shrug, not hating the idea, and let Fiona help me out of the wedding gown. After I change, I follow her

through the kitchen and out into a beautiful little garden I didn’t know was here.

“Oh wow,” I say, looking around. “It’s beautiful out here.”

It really is. There’s a full grill and wet bar pressed up against the house. Next to it is a stone patio with a

hand-carved wooden table covered by a tall pergola that has grape vines curling all around it. The

whole area is surrounded by tall hedges, keeping out prying eyes.

Fiona bends down to remove a bottle of wine from the fridge and pops it open, filling two delicate

glasses that she takes down from the rack above the sink. I sit down at the table as she brings the

glasses over.

“This is Kent’s latest vintage,” she says as I raise the glass to my lips. The wine is dry, but I feel a little

bit of bubble against my lips as I sip.

It’s delicious. As I peer at it in the glass, I suddenly realize something. “Wait, has Kent been the one

sending the clothes up to my room? The ones I wear everyday?”

Fiona shrugs. “Probably. He has my wardrobe restocked every couple of months, so he definitely has

the stores on call.”

I stare at the door, then, a little appalled to realize that Kent has made me his little Barbie doll, dressing

me up so that I look just the way he wants me to.

But behind my disgust at the idea, a very little bit of me…likes it.

“It’s so nice to have a chance to sit with you one-on-one,” Fiona says, interrupting my thoughts. “You

know, have a little girl talk.”

I smile at her. “Yes, I agree. I used to do this all the time with my sister.”

“Aww,” Fiona says, giving me a warm smile. You can consider me your sister now, if you want.” Exclusive © content by N(ô)ve/l/Drama.Org.

I smile at her and nod.

“So!” she says, leaning forward. “How are things going with you and Daniel?”

I press my lips together. I definitely can’t tell her the truth – I promised Daniel I wouldn’t – but, frankly,

I’m dying for someone to talk to.

She leans in. “Don’t be shy,” she says. “You can trust me.”

“Well,” I say, hesitating. “I mean, I really like Daniel a lot – but, I’m just not sure we’re meant to be.

Romantically.”

“Why do you say that?” she says, curious. “Is the physical connection just not there?”

I hesitate, realizing that we’re getting a little too close to the truth here.

She leans forward to whisper more. “Is he no good in bed?”

I blush terribly then, biting my lip, too ashamed to admit that I have no way of knowing. And never will.

Fiona stares at me and then figures it out, sitting back with a gasp. “You mean…you never…”

My blush deepens.

“Fay,” she says, looking actually worried for me now. “You’re not a…”

My eyes dart to her and I know she can see the truth there.

“Oh my god,” she murmurs. “You’re a virgin.”

I nod hastily and then take a big gulp of my wine. If we’re going to have this conversation, I’d rather be

lubricated.

To my surprise, Fiona laughs loudly and claps her hands, tickled by the idea. “Baby Fay!” she laughs,

“you are too cute!” I can’t help but laugh with her.

When she finishes laughing she shakes her head at me, truly playing the role of a big sister. “So what’s

the problem, baby? Why haven’t you given it up to him? Are you scared? Shy?”

I shrug a little, not really knowing how to say it. “I’m not…opposed. I just…I don’t know what to do.”

“Well sweetie,” she says, finishing her glass of wine and standing up. “In this world, you’ve got to keep

your man happy. Let me help.”

I stand up with her and swallow my glass of. Then, I follow Fiona back into the house, not really

knowing what’s going on.

Fiona bustles through the house and I trail behind, following her to a door in the kitchen that I hadn’t

noticed before. She opens it and heads quickly downstairs.

The air is noticeably cooler down here and we pass a series of metal doors. I slow my pace the further

we go, getting anxious. What was this place?

“Just down here,” Fiona says, opening the last door on the left. I’m surprised when I enter it. It’s just a

little study with a worn rug on the ground beneath a fine leather recliner. There’s a coffee table next to it

and a large television facing the recliner. The walls are covered in media – old VHS tapes, magazines,

books, photo albums.