Page 66 of Arranged Mafia Marriage

He covers my hand with his own. “It was necessary. In our world, betrayal can’t be tolerated. Even from family. He did me a favor by slashing his neck. I like to think maybe he realized I’d never be strong enough to do that, and he saved face for both of us.”

The room falls silent as I process his words. It’s a harsh reality, but one I’m slowly coming to understand. I still can’t grasp what kind of evil man their father must have been to set them up as lifelong rivals in the first place though.

“What about your mother?” I ask, eager to change the subject. “What was she like?”

Kiril’s expression softens slightly. “She was kind. Too kind for the life she found herself in when my father’s gaze fell on her. She was the daughter of one of his lesser captains, and it was a great honor for everyone but her.” He sighs heavily, clearly overcome with grief for a second. “She tried to shield us from the worst of it, but there was only so much she could do.”

I try to imagine a young Kiril, torn between his mother’s kindness, and his father’s harsh lessons. It explains so much about the man he’s become.

“She would have liked you,” says Kiril suddenly, surprising me.

“Really?”

He nods. “You have her strength. Her compassion, but you’re not afraid to stand up to me, which she would have envied. She was too defeated for such bravery by the time I knew her.”

I smile at that. “I’m glad you see it as a positive trait.”

“It is. I need a partner, not a puppet. Someone who can challenge me when necessary.”

His words warm me, reminding me he loves me and making me feel cherished. Another wave of nausea interrupts my thoughts, and I groan, curling into myself.

“Easy,” he whispers, rubbing my back again. “Just breathe through it.”

I focus on his touch and the steady rhythm of his breathing. Slowly, the nausea subsides.

“Better?” he asks.

I nod, exhausted. “Thank you for staying with me.”

“Always,” he says, and I can hear the sincerity in his voice. “You’re carrying my child. Our child. I’ll always support you through this, darling.”

I look up at him, struck by the intensity of emotion in his voice. “Kiril, I—” A knock at the door interrupts me.

He tenses immediately, his protective instincts kicking in. “Yes?” he calls out.

“Sir, there’s a matter that requires your attention,” says Viktor through the door.

Kiril sighs, clearly torn between his duties and his desire to stay with me. I squeeze his hand.

“Go. I’ll be fine. I’m feeling much better.”

He studies me for a moment before nodding. “I’ll be back soon. Try to rest.”

As he leaves, I settle back into the pillows, my mind whirling with thoughts of Kiril, our unborn child, and the complex world we navigate together. Despite the morning sickness, I’m smiling. Who would have thought that I’d find love and comfort in the arms of a Russian mafia boss?

29

Felicity

Acouple of evenings later, the doorbell chimes, and I smooth down my dress, taking a deep breath. Kiril places his hand on the small of my back in a gesture of support that calms my nerves.

“Ready?” he asks softly.

I nod, and he opens the door. Damiano stands there, looking uncomfortable but composed. He looks between us before his gaze settles on me. “Felicity,” he says, his voice gruff. “Thank you for the invitation.”

“Come in,” I say, stepping aside. “We’re glad you could make it.”

As Damiano enters, I catch a whiff of expensive cologne. He’s dressed impeccably in a tailored suit, his dark hair styled perfectly. It’s clear he’s made an effort for this dinner. Now that he’s not wearing sunglasses, I realize he and I have the same eyes, just like Santino’s.

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