Page 49 of Arranged Mafia Marriage

I nod, understanding her struggle. “It’s not an easy life, I know. If you want to distance yourself from it all, I won’t hold it against you. Your safety and happiness are my top priorities.”

She squeezes my hand tighter. “No,” she says firmly. “I made my choice. I’m part of this world now, for better or worse. I just need time to adjust.”

I study her face, searching for any sign of doubt or hesitation. “Are you sure? This life changes people. I don’t want you to lose yourself.”

She doesn’t look away. “I’m sure. I won’t run from this or pretend you’re a particularly lucky businessman or something. Loving you means accepting everything, and it’s not in my nature to let you take all the risk.”

I press my forehead against hers. “You’re strong, and I appreciate that. If you need me to take more of the burden, I can.”

She nods but straightens her shoulders. “I know, but I’m going to do this.”

We sit for a moment in silence as I wait to see if her stomach has settled. Finally, I stand, offering her my hand. “Let’s get you something to eat. It might help settle your stomach.”

She grimaces, looking unconvinced, but takes my hand and walks with me. As we near the doorway, she says, “I know you assigned me busy work.”

I freeze for a second, about to protest, but I can’t in good conscience, and I never want to lie to her. “The baby…”

To my surprise, she nods. “I get it. I want to be involved, but it’s not really practical right now, so I appreciate you including me wherever you can.” She rises on her tiptoe to kiss my cheek before sweeping into the kitchen ahead of me.

I realize I got off easy as I set about making her some toast and ginger tea.

Felicity watches me intently, and there’s clearly something more on her mind. “Tell me about the first time you had to deal with the violence of this life.”

I pause, memories flooding back. Setting the kettle on the stove, I turn to face her. “I was sixteen. My father had taken me and my brother Nikolai on what he called a ‘business trip.’ It was supposed to be my introduction to the family operations.”

Felicity frowns but doesn’t interrupt.

“We went to meet with a rival family. Negotiations broke down, and suddenly, guns were drawn. I remember the chaos, the shouting, and the smell of gunpowder. When it was over, three men lay dead on the floor. My father was angry that I hadn’t killed any of them, but Nikolai was praised for his kill. He wasseventeen and had been in the family business officially for a year by then.”

I meet Felicity’s gaze, seeing her horror and comprehension. “I was sick afterward, much like you were just now. My father wasn’t pleased with my reaction. Said I needed to toughen up if I was going to survive in this world.” I close my eyes, remembering the feel of his foot kicking me in the ribs as I crouched on the cement floor to heave out my guts.

“That’s terrible,” Felicity whispers. “You were just a kid.”

I shrug, turning back to prepare her tea. “It’s the life I was born into, but it’s why I want to give you a choice. You weren’t raised in this world like I was.”

Felicity stands and walks over to me, wrapping her arms around me from behind. “Maybe not,” she says, her voice muffled against my back, “But I’m choosing it now. I’m with you.”

I turn in her embrace, cupping her face in my hands. I press a gentle kiss to her cheek, not wanting to initiate passion when she’s still in a delicate state. As we break apart, the kettle whistles, bringing us back to the present. I pour the hot water over the ginger tea, and the warm aroma fills the kitchen.

“Here,” I say after it’s steeped for a bit, handing her the mug. “Drink this. It should help with the nausea.”

Felicity takes a cautious sip, her face relaxing as the warm liquid soothes her throat. “Thank you.”

I nod for her to return to the breakfast bar and fix her a slice of toast. She eats it slowly, a nibble at a time, and sips her tea. Her color is better by the time she’s eaten all the toast. As she finishes her tea, I take the cup from her and set it in the sink.

Then I take her hand. “Come on. Let’s get some rest.”

She nods, allowing me to lead her back to our bedroom. As we settle into bed, her body curling against mine, I stare at the ceiling. The events of the day are on my mind, but her presence brings a measure of calm. I turn to face her, taking in the soft curves of her face in the dim light.

“What are you thinking about?” she asks.

I trace a finger along her cheek. “The future. Our future. Our child’s future.”

She catches my hand, pressing a kiss to my palm. “I’ve been thinking about that too. It’s overwhelming sometimes.”

I nod, understanding her concerns. “This life isn’t an easy one. I want our child to have a better start than I did.”

She nods. “I want to shield them from this world for as long as we can. They deserve a chance at innocence.”

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