Fall For My Ex’s Mafia Father by Caroline Above Story
Chapter 0161

Chapter 0161

“Oh my god,” I mutter, my mouth full of crab cake, my eyes almost rolling back into my head with how delicious it is. “This is...seriously, how do they get such good seafood up in the mountains? This tastes like it was caught this morning!”

“I think it was,” Ivan replies, equally intent on a lobster tail. “I think they've got a guy whose whole job is to drive up from theshore in the mornings with the freshest catch. Then he goes back at night.”

“A lot of lonely hours on the road,” I murmur, nodding seriously, “but he’s doing God’s work.”

I take a final bite and then, groaning, lean on the backrest of the queen-sized lounge positioned on my father’s third-floor deck,looking out over the scenery. We're eating al fresco tonight and the view is...amazing. Just treetops and mountain peaks as faras the eye can see.

As much as I resent my father — my cheek still carries the phantom sting of his slap — I have to admit...his taste in vacationproperty is flawless.

Ivan leans back next to me on the lounge, our shoulders brushing. He holds out a beer to me, fresh from the cooler at his side.Smiling, I take it, twisting off the top and taking a swig.

“So,” I say, leaning into Ivan and giving him a little nudge with my shoulder. “What do we do now?”

Ivan pauses and then turns his head slowly to me, his eyebrow suggestively raised, and I swat at him, cackling with laughter.“Seriously, a couple of crab cakes and you think you’re going to get me in bed!?”

“Crab cakes!” he insists, laughing with me, “and a multi-million-dollar property!”

“Which is more mine than yours!”

“Details,” Ivan mutters, flicking a hand to dismiss my point as he brings his beer bottle to his lips, “semantics. Not important.”“It is pretty here, though,” I sigh, my laughter fading to a happy hum in my chest. “Thank you for bringing me.”

We sit there for a long time, chatting about nothing, as the sun fades over the horizon and stars take the sky. I smile when I see afew early fireflies flitting their way through the treetops, the swoop of bats and owls as they start their nighttime prowl. I shiver, alittle, as the evening grows colder, and Ivan wraps a warm arm around me.

I lean into him and then feel a twist of discomfort in my stomach when I remember...well, that someone else was keeping mewarm with their body heat just a couple of hours ago.

God, I wonder suddenly, am I a slut?

My mind starts to race, my body going tense as I consider the fact that I’m letting lvan hold me on the deck of my father’s housewhen only a few hours ago, his enemy — my boss, and maybe... my boyfriend? — was...

God. Maybe I am a slut.

Is it a bad thing to be a slut? I wonder frantically. Should I be sitting here, slut-shaming myself, or should I — like Janeen says —just give in to the impulses of my body and not bother with puritanical questions of shame —

“Are you all right, Fay?” Ivan asks gently.

I blink back to myself and realize thatI'm panicked a little bit — breathiharder than I shgulqje Vahef tn justrelaxiay Ona deck drinking a beer. Mybody is tense against lvan’s. Nowonder he noticed — how could henot? Please read the original contentat .

“I'm okay,” I reply after a moment, deliberately making my muscles unwind. I give Ivan a wan little smile.He studies me carefully, sweetly, frowning a little. “Can I hazard a guess?” he asks.I tense again — can he know, like Jerome did? Can he tell that this morning —

“This world is getting to you a littlebit, isn’t it?” lvan s epslatgs efi)!"t’sponan easy) ace.” Please readthe original content at.

My breath leaves me in one bigrelieved exhale. “Yes,” I say, relievedthat lvan is not as perc ptiveas)I\\niacin eA how Steen a lot,lately.” I work to give him a smile andfail a bit. lvan raises a hand to myface, his fingertips cool and a littledamp from the condensation of hisbeer. Please read the original contentat .

“Well then,” he says, smirking at me. “Forget about it. For a little bit. For just one night.”

“Forget about it?” I echo, disbelieving. “Fat chance there —“