Sold To My Ex’s Dad: An Age Gap, Secret Baby Romance (Silver Fox Daddies)

‘Gentlemen,’ Luca begins, raising his glass in a toast as his guests mirror his action. ‘Tonight is not just a celebration of our ventures but a reaffirmation of our commitment to excellence—both in business and pleasure.’

The first course is done; just waiting on the next. Still no sign of Donnie.

One of the guests, a distinguished man with a thick accent—probably the associate from Sicily—nods appreciatively.

‘Luca, every time I come to New York, you surpass my expectations. This restaurant, this food—it’s exquisite.’

‘Thank you, my friend,’ Luca replies with a gracious smile. It’s my pleasure to showcase the best our city has to offer. And tonight, thanks to Chefs Patrick and Allie, we can expect something truly special.’

He gestures subtly toward me, acknowledging my role without drawing too much attention.

Another guest, younger and more animated, chimes in, ‘Luca, you’ve outdone yourself.’

Luca’s response is smooth, his tone even. ‘I aim to please. And, of course, none of this would be possible without Savor’s exceptional team.’

As they continue to engage, discussing topics such as wine preferences and cultural anecdotes, I maintain my distance.

As the evening begins to gather pace at Savor, I steel myself for the inevitable confrontation with Luca Amato. His reputation as both a mobster and a sharp businessman precedes him, but it’s the professional facade he maintains that I must navigate tonight.

Observing discreetly from the edge of the dining area, I watch Luca’s interactions with his associates, noting the respect he commands and the subtle undercurrents of power at play.

Finally, I get my chance.

Waiting for a break in the conversation, I signal to Luca, requesting a moment of privacy away from prying eyes and ears. His response is measured: a nod of acknowledgment before he excuses himself with practiced ease from his group.

We move to a secluded corner of the restaurant, setting the stage for a serious conversation. I don’t waste a moment and dive right into the matter at hand.

“Patrick, my friend. Is there something wrong?”

‘Luca, we need to address something about your son,’ I begin, my tone firm. ‘Last time he was here, his behavior was out of line—especially toward Allie. He made her feel uncomfortable, and frankly, it’s unacceptable.’

Luca raises an eyebrow, his usually easygoing demeanor sharpening into focused attention. ‘Is that right?’ he asks, the smoothness of his voice belying the seriousness of the discussion. ‘Tell me exactly what happened.’

‘Not only was he making inappropriate comments, looking at her like a piece of meat, but I also overheard talk about him taking someone out. You know I appreciate the business you bring here, Luca, but I have to draw the line. My staff’s comfort and safety are my top priorities,’ I state.

Luca’s face hardens for a moment, the affable mobster facade giving way to the shrewd businessman underneath. ‘Patrick, I apologize. Donnie can be … impetuous. But you have my assurance, it won’t happen again. I’ll speak with him personally,’ Luca replies, his tone full of irritation at his son’s antics.

‘And I need to know that this sort of talk doesn’t spill over into my restaurant. It’s bad for business, and it’s not the environment I want for my guests or my crew,’ I add.

Luca nods, a slight smile playing at the corners of his mouth, appreciating the directness. ‘You have my word. Donnie will be reined in. He respects strength, and you’ve shown plenty. We’ll keep our business clean here. No more talk of the unsavory sort, and no more making your staff uncomfortable. You run a fine establishment, and I respect that,’ he states, extending his hand to seal the promise.

I shake his hand, feeling the weight of his assurance while also well aware of the underlying complexities of dealing with a man like Luca.

Luca’s smile widens appreciatively. ‘I’m looking forward to the rest of the meal, Patrick. Your reputation is well deserved,’ he comments with genuine enthusiasm.

‘I hope it exceeds your expectations,’ I reply, nodding respectfully before turning to head back to the kitchen. There, Allie is skillfully arranging a modern twist on a classic—beetroot carpaccio with goat cheese mousse and a walnut crumble—a vibrant and elegant dish.

She looks up as I approach, a hint of concern in her eyes that shifts to curiosity. ‘I saw you talking to the big man. Is everything okay?’ she asks, carefully placing a delicate sprinkle of microgreens on the dish.

‘Yeah, it went well. I spoke to him about Donnie. He understands the situation and assured me it won’t happen again,’ I tell her, watching her face light up with relief.

Allie’s expression softens, her earlier worry dissipating. ‘Thank you, Patrick. It means a lot that you stood up for me, for us,’ she says.

I nod, feeling a surge of protectiveness. ‘Always. Now, let’s get these dishes out and show them what we can do.”

Allie smiles but then her brow furrows with concern. ‘Is it really that easy? Donnie’s just going to behave suddenly?’

I give a noncommittal shrug, my tone firm. ‘Luca gave his word. He strikes me as a man who honors his commitments. But if he doesn’t keep his son in line, I won’t hesitate to close our doors to them. I won’t let Savor become a playground for mob antics.”

I cast a glance through the service window to the dining area, noting the same group settled and no new faces. ‘Looks like it might not even matter tonight. There’s still no sign of Donnie.’

Allie nods, absorbing my words, her expression one of relief. ‘Let’s hope it stays that way.”

As I watch Allie deftly preparing the next course, her hands moving with the confidence of a seasoned chef, I can’t help but admire her. She catches my gaze, a playful smirk crossing her lips. “You know, I can’t do my best work with you breathing down my neck,” she teases.

I chuckle, leaning against the doorway. “Can’t help it—I like watching a pro at work.” Her cheeks flush with that charming blush I find irresistible.

“I need some fresh air. I’m going to step out for a bit,” I say, planting a quick kiss on her cheek, feeling her warmth linger as I pull away.

Stepping outside, I breathe in the cool evening air, trying to clear my head. My mind circles back to Caleb. Still no word from him. The gravity of his silence stings. Did I push him too far? Could I have handled things better?

I’m already on edge as I walk toward the back of the building, but the loud banter and thumping bass of music only heighten my irritation. Rounding the corner, I spot a familiar, unwelcome scene—Donnie and a couple of his cronies loitering by their car, cigarette smoke swirling around them.

“Hey! No loitering back here,” I call out as I approach, my voice firm.

Donnie turns, a smirk spreading across his face. “Chef Patrick! Is Allie working tonight?” he throws out casually, his tone grating on my nerves.

Ignoring his bait, I shoot back, “Your father’s inside, waiting. He’s going to want to talk to you.” My words are pointed.

He laughs it off, clearly unfazed. “Yeah, sure, Chef,” he replies with a dismissive wave of his hand.

I stiffen, my patience thinning. “And about the loitering—this is your only warning.”

Undeterred, Donnie steps closer, invading my space, and deliberately blows smoke in my face. My anger flares, but I keep it under control.

“Do that again, and I’ll be serving your ass for dinner,” I warn, my tone turning icy.

Donnie’s chuckle is dark and ominous. “You might want to be careful, Chef. The old man won’t be around forever,” he taunts, a veiled threat hanging between us.

With a sneer, he and his friends pile into their car and peel away, leaving a cloud of exhaust in their wake.

The tension from my standoff with Donnie clings to me as I push through the back door into Savor. Allie’s orchestrating the kitchen like a seasoned pro, her focus unshaken.

I give her a wink to bolster her confidence as we continue the night’s service.

I trail behind the servers into the dining area, ready to introduce the dish. But the night takes a dark turn when the front doors slam open, and there stands Donnie, flanked by his thugs.

Donnie’s smug voice slices through the heightened silence of the dining room.

‘Enjoying dinner, folks?’ His sneer is insidious.

As his men brandish their guns, the room’s atmosphere shifts from fine dining to a freeze frame of fear.

My instincts kick in, hard and fast. I dive toward Sophia, the nearest waitress. I shove her to the ground, covering her with my body as gunfire punctures the ambient music.

I press Sophia firmly to the floor, whispering, ‘Stay down!’ My eyes scan the room, calculating my next move.

This is no random outburst. Donnie’s here to make a statement, guns blazing. It’s clear now—whatever leash Luca thought he had on his son has been broken. The room is a chessboard, and it’s Donnie’s move, bold and violent.

Shielding Sophia, my mind races to Allie. Protecting her, the restaurant, and our guests is all that matters now.

I lock eyes with Donnie, my gaze full of cold resolve. I’m ready to do whatever it takes.

This ends tonight, one way or another.