Chapter 0242

“Whoa,” I say, picking up my coffee cup and raising it to my lips. “Rough night, Danny?”

Daniel lifts his head and glares at me a little. “Who told you to call me that?”

I laugh a little wickedly and blow on my coffee before taking a sip. “No one. I just heard a little bird call you it.” I wrinkle my nose

at him. “I think it fits.”

Daniel just growls something noncommittal and looks down at his plate again.

“Aww, come on, sugar,” I say, leaning forward and taking his hand. “Are you really feeling this poorly?”

“Yes,” he sighs, sitting back in his seat but keeping my hand in his. “But Fay — we have to...”

“I know,” I say, squeezing his hand and looking at him seriously. Because he’s right — we need a plan. Daniel takes a deep breath

and leans forward to whisper to me, all the time getting greener, as if he might barf all over his plate.

“Fay,” he whispers, “I don’t know what my dad has planned — but I have no intention of breaking this engagement or letting

Natalia have a place in this family. I went to my dad’s room this morning and he agrees —*

“Oh,” I say, perking up a little bit and feeling a relieved. “That was you?”

“Yeah — wait,” he says, looking at me narrowly. “How did you...”

And I bite my lip, realizing what I just let slip.

“Were you...there?” he asks, glancing around to make sure that he isn’t heard — but the kitchen is full, and quite loud, and the

Italians aren’t here yet, so I’m fairly sure we're safe. “What,” he says, scrunching his face a little with distaste. “Did he like —

shove you in a closet to keep you secret?”

“No,” I reply simply, sitting up straight and keeping my mouth shut. But I can’t help giving Daniel a sneaky little grin that lets him

know that I’m keeping my secret on this one.

“Okay,” he says, dropping my hand and covering his face with his palm as he leans back in his chair. “Now I’m really gonna barf

I laugh and lean forward to tease him more, but a plate slides in front of me before I can say another word and I look up to see

Kent standing there.

“All right?” he asks, looking between us.

“Daniel's going to barf,” I say, giving Kent a little smile before reaching for my fork and eagerly stabbing at the pile of eggs on my

plate.

“Daniel,” Kent says, slipping his hands into his pockets and turning towards his son, “needs to learn his limits.”

Daniel just flaps a hand at his dad, who chuckles a little and opens his mouth to say something more, but at that moment the

door to the kitchen swings open and Natalia and Alessi walk in, looking bright and fresh. All three of us turn to look at them and I

consider, passively, that you’d never know that they ordered a hit on my father last night.

Kent swallows whatever it was he was going to say to us and turns away instead, his demeanor going cold. “I’m busy today,”

Kent calls over his shoulder to Daniel and I as he walks towards the kitchen, ignoring Alessi and Natalia as he goes. “But I have

my phone. You two call if you need anything.”