Fall For My Ex's Mafia Father novel Chapter 331

Too early the next morning, the guard bangs his nightstick against the bars of Kent’s cell, making him jump awake.

“Lippert,” the guard says, yawning. “Visitor.”

Kent stands, wondering what the hell could be going on. He doesn’t say a word, though, knowing better than to ask. Instead, he simply stands and walks to the door, waiting for them to open it.

A short, silent walk talks Kent down the hallway with the interrogation rooms, and he raises his eyebrows when he realizes that he’s being walked past them. So, he thinks, curious. An actual visitor this time…

Kent’s eyebrows raise even further when he sees Daniel alone in the large visitation room, meant to accommodate a series of guests visiting inmates all at once. Daniel’s sitting slumped in a chair, his head hanging, his hair mussed.

And he looks like absolute shit.

The guard holds the door open for Kent and nods inside. “Ten minutes,” he says, his voice clipped. “No touching, no gifts. If the kid brought any paperwork, he leaves with it.” Kent nods and walks a few feet into the room, the door closing behind him as he crosses the room to his son.

“What the hell happened to you,” Kent says, kicking the leg of his son’s chair and making Daniel jump.

“No touching, inmate,” a voice says from the room’s loudspeaker. Kent waves to it and steps away from his son, sitting down across the table as Daniel raises his head.

“Hey, dad,” Daniel says, giving Kent a pained little smile and wincing at the bright lights of the room. “I missed you too.”

“Seriously, Daniel?” Kent says, leaning forward and studying him, sniffing at the scent of whiskey which seems to be pouring out of his pores. “Are you – are you hungover?”

“Yeah, that’s an…understatement…” Daniel murmurs, sighing and running a hand through his hair.

Kent is almost shocked at the smile that cracks on his own face as he studies his son, who looks absolutely shattered. “You’re supposed to look like this after your bachelor party,” he murmurs, laughing a little now, “not your wedding.”

“So, you heard about that?” Daniel asks, looking up at him with a little bit of surprise.

Kent doesn’t answer, just waits.

“Yeah well,” Daniel sighs, a corner of his mouth lifting in amusement. But even that small gesture makes him wince. “Most wedding receptions aren’t planned by Janeen Thompson.”

Kent’s smile grows now as he starts to figure it out. “Did she take you to the strip club?”