Fall For My Ex's Mafia Dad

Chapter 0332

Kent glares at his son. “I said | don’t need it.”

“Your sample showed evidence of viable sperm,” Daniel snaps, grabbing the envelope off the table and shoving it back into his pocket. “Another reason to fire that doctor. So, unless you have other concerns about Fay, you should stop treating her like shit and believe her when she says she’s only sleeping with you.”

“| said,” Kent growls again, “I didn’t need it.”

“Well, you've got it now. So would you fucking call her?”

Kent clenches his jaw and turns his face away. “I don’t have phone privileges,” he sighs. “Oh,” Daniel says, a little awkward now. He had assumed...

They're quiet for a long moment, but Kent glances at the clock and realizes that time is running short. “What's that,” he asks, nodding towards the other envelope.

“Draft of a plea deal,” Daniel says, looking up again and burping a little, turning a bit green as he does.

“Jesus,” Kent mutters under his breath, glaring both at the envelope and at his hungover son. Then he pushes the document away from him. “I don’t want this either.”

“All of your lawyers agree, dad,” Daniel says, leaning forward to glare at him. “You’re going away for life — you could even get the death penalty if you don’t agree to what they're offering —*

“| didn’t do half these crimes, Daniel,” Kent growls, meeting his son’s eyes. “The only way | have a chance of getting out of this is if | can convince a jury to listen —*This content © 2024 NôvelDrama.Org.

“This isn’t Twelve Angry Men, dad!” Daniel snaps, banging a hand on the table. “You are not getting out of this on reasonable doubt! Even if you didn’t commit half those crimes, you still did the other half! What the fuck do you think half of a life sentence is, forty years? Is that seriously what you want, to get out of here when you're eighty, to meet your fucking kid when they’re middle aged?”

Shocked, Kent sits back in his seat, staring at his son. “Just...” Daniel sighs, frustrated as hell and feeling like he might barf at any second. “Would you please just take the deal, dad?”

“Is it any better?” Kent snaps, glaring at his kid and then looking down at the envelope. “Are they seriously offering less than forty years?”

“If you're willing to...talk,” Daniel says, squeezing the bridge of his nose between his fingers, “about the Russians. They're willing to give you twenty.”

Kent blanches at the number, but then he shakes his head.

“It's still too much. | need to walk.”

“You are not listening —*

“YOU,” Kent snaps, pounding his hand flat on the table. “Are not listening!”

Daniel, to Kent's surprise, just groans and covers his face with his hands, leaning so far back in his chair that it tilts onto its two back legs.

“God, dad, why are you so stubborn? Would you...would you please just at least open the envelope? Consider it?”

Confused, but slightly persuaded at this strange request, Kent grabs the envelope off the table and tears it open. He pulls out the paper inside, looking through what his lawyers think is the best they can offer.

“| can’t take this,” he murmurs, shaking his head, still believing that a full acquittal is the only way to go. “Read the last page,” Daniel sighs, still leaning back and covering his face with his hands.

Confused, Kent does so, frowning at the legal language that doesn’t seem to spell out anything special... But then, there at the bottom, a few words are written in Fay’s slightly chaotic cursive script.

Take the deal, Kent.

He stares at them, shocked. And then, almost before he can stop himself, he runs a finger over the ink, tracing the letters she wrote.

Slowly, he lowers the paperwork to the paper and looks up at his son. Daniel, having leaned forward again without Kent noticing, stares right back at him.

“What's going on,” Kent asks, stern. Because...why does Fay have anything to say about this? Why is she involved?

“Honestly, dad,” Daniel says, “she’s keeping me in the dark too. But you either trust her, or you don’t.” Kent takes a long minute to sit back in his chair and think.

“One minute left,” the voice announces. “Say your goodbyes.”

“Dad...” Daniel says, spreading his hands wide, pleading.

“Fine,” Kent snaps. “I'll do it.”

And then, on some impulse that neither of them could describe — because they’ agyecdéne: be Qire ieee geen and son suddenly stand and throw their arms around each other, hard. Please read the original content at .

“| love you, dad,” Daniel murmurs into Kent’s shoulder.

“Hands off!” the loudspeaker blares. “No touching!”

“| love you too, kid,” Kent whispers back. “Tell her, too.”

“We said hands OFF!”

“Nah,” Daniel says, pulling back a little now to smile at his dad. “I'll leave that to you.”

Then, as the guards burst through the door to separate them p

Kent feel a.sharopais be the ack of Haka oe gasps, pulling away from Daniel and staring at him in shock. Please read the original content at .

As the guards grab him by the arms and pull him forcibly away hes hi son, Kent wat esineditusten as rarentsheeril tuft of hair held between his fingers — pulled out from the roots — and tucks it into the pocket of his pants. Please read the original content at .