Chapter 0346

Well. Let’s just say that I’m glad Tristin is a bit of a high-maintenance wife, at this point. I make a mental note to thank her at

some later date.

“So what would you have me do, Fay,” my father asks, his voice friendly and kind, pleased at the prospect of being able to do

something for me, for his grandchild.

“I wondered,” I say, turning my head and looking up at him like he’s my saving grace, “if you could...teach him? Just a little bit?

His father — Mr. Lippert,” I say, laughing inwardly at my use of the name, “didn’t teach Daniel very much about the ways of...

business.”

I heavily emphasize the last word of my sentence, making it impossible for my father to not hear “business” as “mafia.”

My father lifts his chin and hums, arching a brow as if he thinks Kent a great fool.

I press on.

“Do you think you could teach him?” I ask, as if I just came up with the idea now, a bright new thing. “Just a...just a little bit?” I

say eagerly, pressing my hands to his arm. “Just to get him started?”

My father hesitates, perhaps not wanting to take a Lippert into his business, but then his eyebrows raise as he perhaps

considers the closer ties he’d have to the Bianci family if he takes Daniel under his wing. “Well, perhaps,” my father murmurs. “In

some small way...”

But I snatch my hands away, suddenly hesitating, and my father turns to me, asking me what’s wrong.

“I don’t...” I whisper now, glancing over my shoulder as if afraid Daniel will hear me. “I don’t want Daniel to go to... jail. Not like...

his father. So...is there a part of your business? That would be...safer?”

My father nods, considering, perhaps running through the rolodex of industries that he has under his name. The greatest share

of his profits come from running in the drug trade, I know — but I want Daniel nowhere near that.

“I could...perhaps put him somewhere in waste management,” my father says, considering, but I screw up my face in distaste,

making my father laugh. “Ah, the little bride does not want her husband coming home smelling of trash?”

“I don’t think he’d like it very much either,” I say, shaking my head. “Daniel is picky, and I don’t want him to hate it. Do you have

anything...nicer?”

“Well, you would not have him in the clubs, would you,” my father sighs, speaking of the dozens of bars and strip joints that he

owns around the city. Again, I shake my head. That’s not it. Come on, dad...

“Or,” he says, his eyebrows suddenly going up. “We do have the investments in shipping...”

I gasp a little in pretend inspiration and my father looks at me, a smile starting.

“Daniel really likes boats,” I say, nodding eagerly, pretending as much as I can to be a stupid little girl. My father laughs and

wraps his arm around me, pleased.

“So, the boy likes boats does he?

Well, they aren't eet eo

tare gipaInates s, the kind with

btg metal containers and lots of

goods.” Please read the original

content at .

“What kind of goods?” I ask, curious,

and my father begins tq cattle ther)

ae lj tar with Katha ear, my mind

a Af y moving on to the next parts

of my plan. Please read the original

content at .

Because with Daniel as a shipping magnate? Or, at least with his fingers in the game?

Well. From there, I can get started.

“Do you think that would please you, Fay?” My father asks, giving my shoulders a little squeeze.

And I look up at him with a big, beaming smile. “Yes, father,” I say, giving him a kiss on the cheek. “More than you know.”

“Than it shall be done,” he says,

heaving himself up from the cqugiy

and then of eringcaiGavto me,

vine ake. “Come, let’s go offer

your new husband a job.” Please read

the original content at

.