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

Chapter 322 

I curl up then, in my chair, tucking my face into my hands, completely overwhelmed by the realization that the best I’m ever going to get in Kent’s heart is second place. 

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And I’m absolutely terrified by the realization that I want to be first. I want to mean more to him I want to mean the most. 

– 

Because maybe that’s what he is to… 

But no. I shut down the thought, making my mind turn to other things. My brain trips over itself in its attempt to find something new to mull over, and cruelly – it turns to Ivan. To what he said yesterday that he offered me everything, and I’d picked an old, dead man over him. Someone who will never, ever love me. 

– 

And suddenly I feel just…horribly stupid. 

God, what had I done? 

Is this seriously it? 

Did I turn down something that could have been great – the equivalent big love that Kent and Lenai had for each other – because I wanted to have sex with Kent? Did I seriously, seriously choose that? Just because Kent is hotter than Ivan- because that, I can finally admit to myself is true – but seriously, am I just a stupid girl who followed a hot guy down a path that’s going to lead to my death? 

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⚫ Chapter 322 

I’start to panic a little bit now, pressing my hands over my imouth and forcing myself – forcing myself to take deep breaths. 

A few long moments pass and I start to calm down. But what I need, I realize, is a distraction. A big one. Because if I keep going along with this line of thinking, I’m going to completely freak 

oul. 

So, I reach out for the top magazine on the pile closest to my chair and drag it in front of my face, making myself flick through the pages and concentrate on the lewd photographs and the pulp fiction of a vintage Playboy from the 70s. 

It takes a while, but eventually through a combination of forcing myself to concentrate, and willfully pushing away my questions. about how much Kent loved Lenai, and whether I’m an idiot. who is going to die because she was to sex–addled to be smart enough to get herself away, I begin to calm down. 

And as I calm down, and let myself be distracted from what are, arguably, the more important questions…I find myself starting to become intrigued. 

The first time I came down here into this basement, I had been way too embarrassed to truly engage with this literature, not matter how much Fiona encouraged me. Plus, I had stumbled onto that sex tape from Kent, which had been a step too far. 

My eyes flick, just once, to shelf of unlabeled black tapes – but then I decide against it. I didn’t need to compare his technique with other women to what he does with me. I just avoided one 

Chapter 322 

jealous panic attack – perhaps best to avoid another. 

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But as I flick through the magazine this time, now that I have what is inarguably more experience under my belt – though much less than Kent, I’m well aware – I find myself not shy at all about exploring what I’m finding on the page. 

Some of it does not appeal to me at all. The pictures of solo women bearing their bodies for the photographer don’t do much – I’m pretty thoroughly straight, I’m aware, so while I can admire these women’s beauty, I flip through these sections pretty fast. 

But the images of women actually paired with men… 

Fall For My Ex’s Mafia Father