Page 3 of Arranged Mafia Marriage

“Your mother lied,” Kiril interrupts. “To protect you. Your father is Santino DeLucci, the head of the Sicilian mafia in New York.”

I shake my head, laughing nervously. “This is insane. You’re lying. My mother would never lie to me like that.”

“Your mother did what she thought was best,” Kiril says, his voice softer now. “She wanted to keep you safe from this world, but circumstances have changed. Your father is dying, and your existence has been discovered.”

My mind reels. This can’t be true. It’s too fantastical, too much like something out of a movie. “If what you’re saying is true, and I’m not saying I believe you, why does that put me in danger?”

Kiril’s expression darkens. “Because your brother, Damiano, sees you as a threat to his inheritance. He’s the one who tried to have you killed tonight. My men saved you from his assassins, but only barely. A few more seconds without my power and you’d be in a pine box six feet underground. That, or they’d toss you in the river.”

I remember the gunfire, the men chasing me. It seems so surreal now, standing in this luxurious hotel room. The prospect of death isn’t what bothers me the most, though. It’s the fact that a brother that I never knew I had is behind it. “I have a brother?” I ask.

“Half-brother, and he’s not someone you want to meet. Damiano is ruthless and ambitious. He’ll stop at nothing to secure his position as your father’s heir.”

I sink deeper into my chair, my body suddenly weak. “This is... it’s too much. I can’t process all of this.”

Kiril moves to the bar, pouring two glasses of what looks like whiskey. He brings one to me, and I take it gratefully, sipping the burning liquid. It grounds me in a way nothing else can, the harshness of the alcohol taking away the biting edge of panic in my chest.

“I know it’s a lot to take in,” Kiril says, sitting across from me, “But there’s more you need to know.”

I look up at him, dreading what else he might say. “More?”

He nods. “Your father made an arrangement years ago, to protect you and solidify an alliance between our families. An arranged marriage.”

My stomach drops. “No,” I whisper.

“I’m sorry, but you and I are to be married. It’s the only way to keep you safe and maintain the balance of power.”

I stand abruptly, the whiskey sloshing in my glass. “This is insane. I don’t know you. I don’t know any of this. How can you expect me to just accept it?”

He rises too, towering over me. “I don’t expect you to accept it easily, but I do expect you to listen and understand the situation. Your life is at stake. Your family’s legacy is at stake.”

I shake my head, backing away. “No. I won’t do it. You can’t make me.”

He closes his eyes for just a second, as though gathering strength. When they open, he’s more commanding than ever, the blueness of his irises glowing with suppressed anger. “I know this is overwhelming, but please, sit down. Let me explain everything. You need to understand what’s happening and why this is necessary.”

I hesitate, torn between fleeing and hearing him out. Finally, I nod, sinking back into the chair. “Okay,” I say quietly. “I’m listening.”

2

Kiril

Istare at Felicity, taking in her delicate features. The photograph I’d seen didn’t do her justice. Her warm brown eyes sparkle with intelligence and curiosity, framed by long lashes. Freckles dust her nose and cheeks, giving her an innocent appearance that opposes the strength I sense beneath the surface.

“Mr. Pimaslov?” Felicity’s voice breaks through my reverie. “You were going to explain about Damiano?”

I clear my throat, embarrassed to be caught staring. “Yes, of course. My apologies.” I rest my elbows on my knees. “Damiano discovered your existence after your father had a stroke nine weeks ago. He found some papers in Santino’s office and realized you posed a threat to his inheritance.”

She looks startled. “My father had a stroke? And he’s still alive?”

I nod. “Yes, Santino DeLucci is very much alive, though his health is precarious. The left side of his body is paralyzed, and his mobility is limited.”

“I can’t believe it,” she whispers. “All this time, I thought... I guess I didn’t know what to think about my father. My mom never talked about him except to say he died before I was born.”

“Your mother was trying to shield you and keep you safe from the dangers of mafia life.”

Felicity shakes her head, her expression a mix of horror and fascination. “So my father is really a mafiadon? This is insane.”

“I understand it’s a lot to take in,” I say, my voice gentler than usual. “We need to focus on the immediate threat, though. Damiano sees you as competition for control of the family business. He’s made attempts on your life already, and he’ll do it again without my protection.”

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