The dad

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Maria's POV:

Who has the audacity to come to my door without telling me? I didn't realise Hunter stayed the night till I heard the pans going with the smell of the eggs, sausages, with hash browns. The door kept getting knocked on. I got up and opened the door and my breath got taken away. He was stood in front of me. My nightmare had arrived, before you ask it wasn't Lucas. I was someone worse, way worse. 

My dad had turned up without an explanation. I had a boy round and my dad was going to ask loads of questions about it. He knew about the way Lucas treated me and he told me to never let another boy into the house unless I could trust them. Did I trust Hunter that much to let him stay in the house? 

I welcomed my dad in without a word. He knew that meant to not judge me. When he saw Hunter he looked back at me with disappointing eyes. He knew from the sight of Hunter that he was related to Lucas, just hopefully knowing that they aren't brothers. My dad sat down and luckily Hunter had made enough for three as I hadn't been eating much for the past few days.  

Hunter sat down with me and my dad and not much was said. 

Hunter's POV:

Her dad walked in and I knew he would recognise me instantly. I was about to inherit his side of the mafia and I didn't know Maria was her dad. How was I suppose to know? 

The mafia on his side was as big as ever. He was a powerful Don. Who knew how many men he had brought with him on this one trip?

 I saw one of his guards keep looking at Maria and for some reason my blood boiled. Mafia Don with emotions how did this ever happen?

If I could I would shoot that man in the head or shoot him dead so many times. Maria didn't know what was going through my head but if she did I bet she would feel sorry for me. No she wouldn't but trust me when I say that her dad wouldn't want me here for her but I could tell that he enjoyed my cooking and so did Maria. 

We didn't talk about anything and just stayed quiet. Maria finished and went upstairs. 

Now it was just me and her dad.



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