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

Chapter 316 

And Kent stares at me for a moment before turning his head sharply and cursing a deep and steady stream of curses. And he doesn’t look at me again as he turns and storms towards the house. 

I don’t say a word either as I hang my head and follow behind. 

When we get into the house, my day is instantly made worse. 

Because the first person we run into is Natalia. 

“Ah, Fay,” she says, giving me a false little smile as she peers around Kent to look at me as I come through the garage door. “Good to have you home. You can help me cook!” 

“Cook?” I ask, blinking at her, still rattled by my morning and Kent’s reaction to it. 

“Yes!” she says, smiling at me and then up at Kent. I stare at her, confused, because there’s absolutely no way that she hasn’t picked up on either of our moods. And then I blink as I realize that of course she has she’s just playing her role as the perfect Mafia wife. The woman who lets her husband handle everything while she just blissfully maintains the home, trusting that he’ll keep it under control. 

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And I scowl at her as I figure that out. Because this morning just further proves that I’m the opposite of a Mafia wife, sticking my nose so far in this business that I’m not sure I’ll ever get it out. I sec Natalia’s smile twist a little as she sees me scowl. 

“I’m making dinner,” Natalia continues, looking up at Kent. “A proper Italian meal for my hungry Italian men!” Then she laughs and puts a too–familiar hand on Kent’s chest. “That is,” she says, pretending to hesitate a little and looking up at him with big doe eyes, “if that’s all right with you?” 

“Sure, Natalia,” Kent says, loosening his tie and glancing back at me before striding off to his office. “Whatever you want.” 

I stare after Kent for a moment and then look back to Natalia, who is smirking at me like she’s already won. “So?” she says, nodding towards the kitchen. “You will come help?” 

“Sorry, Natalia,” I say, instantly shifting into my good fiancé act. “I already told Daniel I’d help him study.” And then I pout exaggeratedly at her and turn towards the stairs, my mind already beyond her and turning towards what the hell we’re going to do. 

“You’ll have to learn to cook, Fay!” she calls after me in a teasing, sing–song tone, “if you want to be a good wife!” 

“Not if we’re all dead, Natalia!” I mutter under my breath, mimicking her sing–song inflection as I haul myself up the stairs. 

“Dinner at six!” she calls after me, louder this time. But I just 

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roll my eyes and keep walking. Because honestly? We’ve got bigger problems than pasta right now. 

B