Jerome drives casually down the country roads close to the stables, singing along with the old country music from the 50s and 60s that’s playing on the radio. I smile, watching and listening to him. Who knew that a guy trying to work his way up in a mafia family could sing so well.
And knew so much Patsy Cline.
I shrug, looking out the window, enjoying the view when suddenly Jerome slams on the breaks.
“Shit,” he mutters as our car skids to a stop, beginning to fishtail a little.
I gasp, grabbing on to the handle above my head and the center console to hold myself steady. My vision, of course, snaps directly to the road, anxious to see what the hell is in our way.
My eyes go wide with shock when I see it.
A bright red Ferrari, situated sideways in the middle of the road, blocking any traffic that might come by on either side.
And leaning against it, his arms crossed casually in front of him, is a young man in a fashionable designer sweatsuit. With tattoos all the way up his neck.
“Shit,” Jerome says again, scrambling for the glove box, popping it open and pulling out –
Oh my god, a gun.
“What!?” I ask, my eyes following it with shock. “Has that been there the whole time!?”
Jerome ignores me, flicking the safety off the gun and expertly ensuring that the clip is full of bullets.
“Stay still, Fay,” he murmurs, looking out of the windshield as Ivan stands up from his position leaning against the car, smirking at Jerome in the front seat. Then, his eyes slide to mine, and he cocks his head to the side.
A question.
Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: Fall For My Ex's Mafia Father
When will be an update?...