Falling In Love With My Mafia Stepmom

m. But it wasn't just a bomb. It was a nuclear strike-out of nowhere. Jace looked at him closely, narrowing his eyes as his father crossed his legs on the leather couch, calm as ever.

at him. "Who is she? Some business deal in a dress? Or some woman who's gonna ruin everything and act like she owns this place?" "You'll meet her tonight," his father said, setting the wine glass down. "She's gorgeous. But don't stare too much." "I don't give a damn," Jace muttered and turned away, heading for his room. As he walked off, he caught a glimpse of himself in the hallway mirror-blond hair messy, blue eyes cold. Six feet tall, lean muscle-the kind of look people expect from someone raised in a mafia family. But deep down, he wasn't ready. Not for this. And definitely not for her. It was exactly 7 PM when Jace heard the knock at the door. He was sitting on the stairs, halfway between his room and the foyer, just watching. He could hear his father's footsteps echo across the marble floor as he went to answer it-calm, cruel, and collected as ever. Of course he was calm. He'd been waiting for this moment all day. Ever since Jace's mother died, he knew his father wanted another wife. He never said it, but Jace saw it in the way he looked at empty spaces. The only