Page 6 of Arranged Mafia Marriage

The limo pulls up to the airport, and we exit the vehicle. As we walk toward the jet, I place my hand on the small of Felicity’s back, guiding her. She tenses at first but then relaxes into my touch.

Once we’re settled on the plane, she turns to me. “Can you tell me more about the ceremony? What should I expect?”

“It’ll be quick and simple. We’ll go to one of the wedding chapels on the Strip. I have connections that will ensure we get a private ceremony without any waiting.”

“Do I need a dress or anything?”

I shake my head, eyeing her in the leggings and oversized T-shirt. Hardly bridal, but she’s still ravishing. “We don’t have time for that. You look beautiful as you are.”

She blushes, and I enjoy the way her cheeks color. “Thank you,” she says softly.

As the plane takes off, we fall into silence. There’s tension in Felicity’s shoulders and the way she keeps fidgeting with her hands. I reach out to take one of her hands in mine again. Like in the limo, she allows it.

“Try to relax. I know this is overwhelming, but I’ll take care of everything.”

She nods, giving my hand a small squeeze. “I’m trying. It’s just a lot to think about. I feel like I should be doubting you right now, but what you’re saying to me is too detailed to be a lie. Still, I feel dumb to be going along with it so easily.”

“You’re far from dumb. This is about protecting you and securing our future. Everything else is secondary, and you can take your time exploring your new life afterward.”

Felicity stares at me. “What about love? Doesn’t that matter to you?”

I pause, considering my words carefully. “Love is a luxury in our world. What matters is loyalty, respect, and mutual benefit. Those things can lead to a strong partnership.”

“And maybe love?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

There’s a twinge in my chest at her hopeful tone. “Maybe, but don’t expect it. It’s better to be pleasantly surprised than disappointed.”

She nods, looking out the window. “I understand,” she says, but she doesn’t sound terribly happy about it.

The rest of the flight passes in relative silence. I catch Felicity stealing glances at me when she thinks I’m not looking. Each time, warmth spreads through my chest that I try to ignore. As the plane climbs into the sky, I push aside thoughts of what our future might hold and text my assistant to make the Vegas arrangements.

3

Felicity

When we land in Las Vegas, the city’s neon lights blink against the desert night sky. Kiril guides me through the private terminal, resting his hand lightly on my lower back once more. The touch makes me shiver, mostly with anxiety but also the smallest whisper of anticipation.

“We’re heading straight to the chapel,” Kiril says, leading me toward another limousine waiting outside.

The wind is strong, blowing sand into my eyes, and I pause to wipe it away. Then I blurt out what’s been on my mind for half the flight, rejecting his earlier statement that there’s no time. “Wait. I want a dress.”

He raises an eyebrow. “A dress?”

“Yes, and photos. We need proof of the wedding, right? For legitimacy? And it’s supposed to be our only…” I trail off lamely.

Kiril studies me for a moment, his gaze making me squirm. “Very well. We have some time, but we can’t wait too long. I know this is overwhelming for you, but it’s for your own protection.”

We climb into the limo, and he directs the driver to a nearby bridal boutique. As we pull up, I turn to Kiril. “I won’t be long. I promise.”

He nods, his expression unreadable. “Take your time.”

I find it a little odd that he trusts me not to run away, but that only adds to the legitimacy of his claims. The only person who would suffer if I decided to make a run for it would be me. There’s no way for me to win the game unless I play by Kiril’s cruel new rules.

So, I take a deep breath, mustering up the courage to do the most insane thing imaginable, and I step inside the boutique. Immediately, I’m overwhelmed by the sea of white fabric. A saleswoman approaches, her smile bright. “Can I help you find something?”

“I need a wedding dress. Something simple but elegant. I’m getting married tonight,” I say, trying to hide the stress in my voice.

She doesn’t blink, as though accustomed to such requests. She must be, working in Vegas. “Of course. Let’s see what we have.”

---