Page 20 of Arranged Mafia Marriage

I grin, loving the state in which I’ve left her. “Let’s get you to bed.”

I guide her into the elevator and up to our floor. As we reach her bedroom door, she pauses, turning to face me. She gives me a sleepy smile. “Are you joining me?”

I want to, but she looks exhausted, so I kiss her forehead. “Tomorrow. Tonight, you need your rest.”

She frowns with clear disappointment before opening her door. “I guess goodnight then.”

“Goodnight, darling.”

She closes the door behind her a moment later. I stand there for a moment, palm against the wood, as I process the events of the day. This arrangement started as a business transaction, a means of protection and alliance, but now, as I think about Felicity’s smile, and the way she felt in my arms, I accept it’s becoming something more.

I make my way to my own room, mind churning with possibilities. There are many reasons I should fight what I’m feeling, but for now, I allow myself to savor the memory of today’s unexpected intimacy.

As I prepare for bed, I catch sight of myself in the mirror. The man staring back at me looks different somehow, softer around the edges and less guarded. It’s a startling realization that both excites and terrifies me.

I’ve spent years building walls around myself, focusing solely on business and power, but Felicity, with her warmth and innocence, is slowly chipping away at those defenses. The question is, am I ready to let her in?

9

Felicity

Iwake up to the sound of voices filtering through the penthouse. Rubbing my eyes, I slide out of bed, grab a robe, and pad to the door, cracking it open to listen.

“We need to move quickly,” says a woman. “The shipment arrives in five days.”

“I’m aware, Anya,” Kiril replies, his voice tight and annoyed. “Misha, what’s our tech situation?”

“I’ve got people at the port,” says a male voice, “But their security is tight. We’ll need to be careful.”

Curiosity gets the better of me. I slip out of the bedroom and tiptoe down the hallway toward Kiril’s office. The door is ajar, and I peek inside. He stands behind his desk, hands planted on the surface as he leans over a map. A tall blonde woman, Anya, I assume, points at something on the paper. Across from them, a younger man with shaggy dark hair taps away at a tablet.

“Felicity,” says Kiril without looking up. “Join us.”

I freeze, caught. How did he know I was there? Sheepishly, I push open the door and step inside. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“Nonsense,” says Kiril. He straightens and gestures me over. “Come meet Anya and Misha.”

The blonde woman turns, her sharp blue eyes assessing me. “So this is your new Sicilian bride.” Her tone is neutral, but I detect a hint of skepticism. Perhaps dislike.

“Nice to meet you,” I say, extending my hand.

Anya takes it after a second, and her grip is firm without being overbearing. “Likewise.” It’s difficult to gauge her sincerity as she releases my hand and turns back to the map.

The man, Misha, looks up from his tablet and grins. “Hey, there.” He winks at me. “Welcome to the family.”

I smile back. His warm manner puts me at ease. “Thanks. What’s going on?”

Kiril’s expression darkens. “We’ve received intel about a planned attack on one of our shipments.”

My stomach drops. “An attack? By who?”

“Your brother,” Anya says bluntly.

I blink, stunned. “Damiano? But why?”

“He sees us as a threat,” Kiril explains. “And since he can’t get to you so easily anymore, he thinks taking out this shipment would weaken our position significantly. It’s about all he can doright now, but he’s determined to stir up trouble in whatever way possible.”

I move closer to the desk, studying the map. It shows the Port of New York and New Jersey, with various markings scattered across it.

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