Arranged Mafia Marriage

261



SebThis content © Nôv/elDr(a)m/a.Org.

She has a baby. She has a baby who looks exactly like her. Blonde hair, big blue eyes, pink lips, and glowing skin. I glance from the little girl in her arms to her, then back to the child, who begins to fuss. My reports had indicated she had a child. Still, knowing about it’s one thing; seeing her with the child is another. And feeling this weird sensation in my chest that tightens my rib cage is something else altogether.

“How did you know it was safe to open the door?” I thrust my chin forward.

“I did look through the peephole,” she retorts.

“What if it had been someone else? Someone like the guy who chased you yesterday?”

She pales, then tips up her chin. “But it wasn’t, and I recognized you. Although, I’m beginning to think maybe I shouldn’t have opened the door.”

The child in her arms wriggles, then holds her arms out to me.

I blink, almost take a step back, then stop myself.

“Oh, she wants to go to you…” Elsa seems as dumbfounded as me.

I stare at the little girl, who all but throws herself at me. I grab her and tuck an arm under her to support her weight. She stares at me, unblinking, then begins to babble. The words make no sense; they are in some kind of completely made-up language.

“Uh, what did she say?” I study the baby who holds my gaze. Huh? No one, and I mean no one, dares stare back at me. Except, apparently, this child here.

“I think she wants you to feed her breakfast,” Elsa ventures.

“Breakfast?” I blink at the girl again.

“Children get hangry if they’re not fed on time.” Elsa leans past me to shut the door, and the scent of cherries fills my senses. I don’t realize I’ve leaned in toward her until she turns and slams into me.

“Oops, sorry.” Her breasts push into my chest, her nipples so pointed that I can feel them through the robe she’s wearing. She tries to brush past me, but I wind an arm around her waist and keep her in place. She glances up at me as her daughter babbles again, then reaches over and socks her head.

“Ow.” Elsa laughs. “What was that for?” She cups her daughter’s face, then rises up on tiptoe to kiss her chubby cheek. She makes a loud mwah sound.

With my arm around each of them, a weird sensation fills my chest. Clearly, Nonna’s death and the promise I made her is affecting me more than I expected. It’s the only reason I can’t shift my gaze from her as she ruffles her daughter’s hair then tries to pull away from me.

“I need to get her breakfast,” she explains, and I release her.

She brushes past me and heads to the kitchen, where she bustles around getting a small bowl out of the drawer. She proceeds to cut up some fruit, which she places in the bowl. When she returns, she places it on the tray of a high chair.

She holds out her hands for her daughter, who turns away and clings to my shoulder.

“What’s her name?” I ask softly.

“Avery,” she murmurs.

“Avery.” I hold the baby’s blue gaze as she stares up at me. She suddenly laughs, then smacks my cheek.

I burst out laughing, and something releases inside of my chest.

“Avery,” Elsa exclaims in a horrified tone. “Sorry,” she turns to me, “this is something new that she’s picked up. It seems to be her chosen way of communicating right now.”

I’ve been put in my place, all right, and by a kid.

“How old is she?” I ask as I lower her into the high chair.

“Almost two.” Elsa snaps the tray in place and pushes the bowl in Avery’s direction.

The child bashes her hand into the bowl of fruit. Half of a grape goes flying, then a bit of apple. She manages to grab a piece of banana and brings it to her mouth. She chomps on it, then exclaims, “Umm.” She makes smacking noises with her lips.

“I know, baby.” Elsa turns to me. “That should keep her occupied for a little while.”

“So,” I glance between them, “you have a child?”

She raises one eyebrow and looks at me like I’m stupid. “It would appear so,” she replies.

“You’re fighting for custody of her,” I state.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re currently only allowed to have her on weekends, and if your ex-husband, who just happens to be one of the most powerful cops in the police force, has his way, he’ll take that away from you. In fact, you are one step away from losing all rights to your daughter, aren’t you?”

The color fades from her cheeks. Her muscles seem to coil until she is a mass of vibrating tension.

“Get out,” she says through gritted teeth. “Get out of my apartment.”

“Oh, but I haven’t even told you the real reason for my visit.”

“I don’t want to know.”

“Oh, but you should.” I fold my arms across my chest. “In fact, I think it’s in your best interest to listen to what I have to say. It might go a long way toward alleviating many of your problems.”

“I don’t want anything to do with you,” she snarls.

I allow my lips to curl in a smirk. “Afraid you may not have much of a choice in this, Princess.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“You prefer Frozen?”

She squeezes the bridge of her nose. “Why are you even here? Shouldn’t you be-” She waves a hand in the air. “Taking care of whatever needs to be done after what happened yesterday?”

“If you mean, shouldn’t I be mourning my grandmother, I am. In fact, that’s why I’m here.”

She looks at me suspiciously. “I don’t follow.”

“Before Nonna died, she asked me to get married.”

She frowns.

“Within the next month.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

“It has everything to do with you.” I grin.

“It’s a little too early for riddles.” She rubs her temple.

“How’s the head?” I jerk my chin in the direction of her still-bandaged wound.

“It’s sore,” she admits, turning toward her baby to make sure she’s okay, I guess, before she glances back at me. “You were saying?”

“That I have a proposition for you.”

“Oh?” She folds her arms around her waist. “I’m really not interested in anything, especially if it has to do with you.”

“Don’t be too hasty.” I glance around the room. “Have you eaten breakfast? Babies are not the only ones who get hangry, you know?”

I circle the table, then begin pulling open the doors to cabinets.

Something hits me in the back. I turn to find Avery waving her hand in the air. She laughs at me, then goes back to playing with her food.

“See? Even my daughter knows you’re not welcome here.”

“On the contrary, I would argue she’s quite enjoying my company.”

Avery grabs a grape and flings it on the floor, then smiles at me again.

“See? She definitely wants me here.”

“Well, I don’t,” Elsa huffs.

“Definitely hangry,” I conclude, then turn and pull out a skillet. I place it on the stovetop, then walk over to the refrigerator and pull the door open. There’re jars of baby food, two eggs, some butter, one head of lettuce, and one tomato. Does she not like to stock her refrigerator? Or does she simply prefer not to eat, or-

“Hey!” She charges toward me and pushes against the door of the refrigerator, trying to shut it. I hold onto the door so it won’t budge. “It’s impolite to peer into other people’s refrigerators,” she points out.

I pull out the eggs and butter, then step back. She slams the door shut and the entire refrigerator wobbles.

I brush past her, grab a fork and a mixing bowl from one of the shelves. I tap the egg on the side of the bowl.

“What are you doing?”

“Making you breakfast.”

“I don’t want you here.”

“Too bad.” I whisk the eggs together, and light the flame under the skillet. “Why don’t you make yourself useful and slice some of that bread?”

She hesitates, then does as she’s told.

“Lay the table.” I point with my spoon in the direction of the table.

She opens her mouth to protest, and I click my tongue. “Don’t argue with me.”

She huffs, then grabs cutlery and thumps it down on the table before she drops into the seat next to her daughter.

I whip up the scrambled eggs, divide them into two plates, butter the bread and add some to each plate, then walk over and slide a plate over to her. Taking off my coat, I place it over the chair opposite her, then take my seat.

Avery beams at me, then picks up a piece of apple and throws it at me.

I snatch it out of the air. “Thanks, sweetheart.” I pop it into my mouth.

The kid smiles at me, then points at Elsa’s food. “Egg, mama.”

“You want some eggs, baby?” She scoops up some of the food and offers it to Avery who chows it down like she is starving.

“She has an appetite, eh?” I watch the little girl closely.

“She likes to eat everything… At least, I think she does, based on the little time that I have her.”

Her lower lip trembles and she looks away. She reaches for her plate, shovels some of the eggs into her mouth, and chews.

I scoop some of the eggs onto the bread, take a bite, then place it back on the plate. I watch as she makes her way through her food, as if it’s a chore.

“How is it?” I point to the food.

“Good,” she admits. “Sorry, I’m just not used to eating breakfast.”

“From the way you look, you’re not used to eating at all,” I observe.

“What’s wrong with the way I look?” She scowls.

I look her up and down. “Nothing.” I raise my gaze to her face. “Absolutely nothing, and that’s the problem.”

“What do you mean?” She carefully places her fork on the plate. “What is this all about? Why are you here, trying to be all cozy and domestic with me, when you should be with your family.”

“I am with my family.”

She opens and shuts her mouth. “Okay, I’m not sure what game you’re playing, but I really don’t like it.” She pushes her chair back and starts to rise, when I reach over and grab her hand.

“Sit down, Princess.”

She glances down at where my fingers are curled around her wrist. She’s so thin that my fingers look obscenely large against the delicacy of her frame.

I release her, then hold up my hands. “I think you’ll find it worth your time to listen to my proposition.”

She folds her arms across her chest and leans back in her seat. “Not that I’m even remotely interested… But in the interest of getting you out of my home, what is it?”

I lean forward, lock my fingers together, then fix her with my gaze. “Marry me.”


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