Page 10 of The Mafia's Property

“This is actually a work trip. Your work trip, at least. I just wanted to know what you’re in to that’s all.”

Now what the fuck was this about? I’ve never really thought about what kind of date I would want to go on, and besides, why does he care? I thought this relationship was going to be anything but conventional, and yet he wanted to know what kind of date I would want to go on? Fuck it. Humor the dude if he wanted an answer this badly.

“I don’t know. A walk on the beach. Candlelit dinner. That sort of thing.”

“Hmm. I never pegged you as the type of woman to be into that kind of thing.” He sounded disappointed. Did I fail the test? His face was indecipherable.

“Sorry to disappoint,” I said.

“Oh no, it’s just… you know what? You’ll find out soon.”

The mystery of where we were going deepens when his car enters what I best describe as a private hangar. I heard about places like this before. People like him didn’t like going through customs or endure the hassle of regular airports, so they used private airports instead. Nico parked his car near a jet that looked like it has been waiting for us all this time. Actually, judging by the man who came out of the plane to welcome us, I’m pretty sure it was.

♣

The jet landed in Chicago sometime in the evening.

“Is this the surprise?” I asked, looking up at the exclusive hotel building as I get out of the car. Soon after landing, we were immediately driven to this swanky hotel. It’s one of those places I’ve heard celebrities like to stay in. A nervous energy coursed through me as I reckoned with where I am. I have flown from Vegas to Chicago on a private jet and now I was about to enter one of the most exclusive hotels in the world.

Nico took my hand in his and led me inside. “Your first assignment,” he said.

“What’s my mission if I choose to accept it?”

He glanced at me as if he’s looking at a different person and shook his head. He seemed amused. “Rico said you wouldn’t understand my references. Looks like we have the same ones.”

“It’s only a Mission Impossible reference. Give it time.”

He chuckled. “We’re attending a friend’s wedding. Nothing big. She likes to keep things small, but a lot of my friends are going to be there.”

He spoke so casually, as if it’s nothing. I’ve never attended a wedding where I barely knew anyone in attendance. Especially one this grand, I thought as we entered the ballroom. I could barely make out what the original room looked like from all the decorations. It had been turned into a whimsical, ethereal forest that brought the vibes of a woodland fairyland. There were a few people here, like Nico said, but that also means we draw the attention of half of the attendees as soon as we enter. I stopped myself from gawking and focused my sight on the man making a beeline towards us. He was flashing a blinding white smile with too perfect teeth that contrasted with his overly tanned skin.

“Nico!” he said, opening his arms wide when he reached us. “I knew you were coming!” he gave Nico a big hug and whispered, “A few people here have lost their bets.”

“Why wouldn’t I come? A friend of mine is getting married.” His gaze went to the main table where bride and groom were sitting listening to speeches. Just then, he made eye contact with the bride. She blushed and looked away. Oh. Interesting.

“And you don’t smell of alcohol,” the other guy said, sniffing Nico’s air. “And you’ve brought a friend,” His gaze went to me and as if becoming aware of my existence for the first time. His eyes flash. “Does she have a name?”

I’m not sure if he’s asking me or Nico. Nico took my hand. “Dalton,” he pushed me forward gently, “Say hi to my fiancée, Freya.”

Dalton looks just as stunned as I was feeling right now. I glanced at Nico trying to gauge what he could be thinking or what he could mean by referring to me as his fiancée, but his face was as blank as usual. Dalton choked on his words as he said, “Engaged? You? Uh… when did this…” His attempt to mask his shock was laughable and I would have giggled if my hands weren’t sweaty or my heart wasn’t hammering in my mouth.

“A few days ago,” Nico said, “She swept me off my feet and here we are.” He punctuated the sentence with a casual shrug.

Dalton nodded his head along as if he was following a story he could barely understand. I have that in common with him. All I could think to do was smile, say nothing, and pray this Dalton person won’t ask me anything. Thankfully, he congratulated us and lead us to our table. There were other people there and they all recognized Nico immediately, all shocked to see him. Two men sitting beside each other exchanged a hundred dollar note.

“We were told you weren’t coming,” a short, skinny brunette woman said.

“You were lied to,” Nico replied.

“And with a plus one.” Another woman said. She was sitting next to where we were standing and the seat Nico draws for me was the chair next to hers. Her gaze followed me as I sat down. It was not judgmental, but a little curious and amused. “Nico rarely brings one of his, uh, girlfriends to things. What’s your name?”

“Fiancée,” Dalton added, eyebrows raised.

Everyone at the table glared at me. It was as if the spotlight was on me and I had no idea what to do with this kind of attention. I don’t think taking my clothes off would work with this crowd. Nico seemed to revel in the shock he was inducing into them. He took his seat beside me and introduced me to them as Dalton got called to deal with some wedding emergency. Apparently, he was the wedding planner.

“Everyone, this is Freya.”

“Freya, that’s Luke,” he said pointing at the man who got the hundred-dollar bill then the woman beside him, the brunette, “and Beal.” He moved to a couple next to Luke and Beal, a stout man and the woman looking at me with interest, “and that’s Chip and Ava.”

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