Arranged Mafia Marriage

Chapter 9Felicity

9

Felicity

I wake up to the sound of voices filtering through the penthouse. Rubbing my eyes, I slide out of bed, grab a robe, and pad to the door, cracking it open to listen.

“We need to move quickly,” says a woman. “The shipment arrives in five days.”

“I’m aware, Anya,” Kiril replies, his voice tight and annoyed. “Misha, what’s our tech situation?”

“I’ve got people at the port,” says a male voice, “But their security is tight. We’ll need to be careful.”

Curiosity gets the better of me. I slip out of the bedroom and tiptoe down the hallway toward Kiril’s office. The door is ajar, and I peek inside. He stands behind his desk, hands planted on the surface as he leans over a map. A tall blonde woman, Anya, I assume, points at something on the paper. Across from them, a younger man with shaggy dark hair taps away at a tablet.

“Felicity,” says Kiril without looking up. “Join us.”

I freeze, caught. How did he know I was there? Sheepishly, I push open the door and step inside. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“Nonsense,” says Kiril. He straightens and gestures me over. “Come meet Anya and Misha.”

The blonde woman turns, her sharp blue eyes assessing me. “So this is your new Sicilian bride.” Her tone is neutral, but I detect a hint of skepticism. Perhaps dislike.

“Nice to meet you,” I say, extending my hand.

Anya takes it after a second, and her grip is firm without being overbearing. “Likewise.” It’s difficult to gauge her sincerity as she releases my hand and turns back to the map.

The man, Misha, looks up from his tablet and grins. “Hey, there.” He winks at me. “Welcome to the family.”

I smile back. His warm manner puts me at ease. “Thanks. What’s going on?”

Kiril’s expression darkens. “We’ve received intel about a planned attack on one of our shipments.”

My stomach drops. “An attack? By who?”

“Your brother,” Anya says bluntly.

I blink, stunned. “Damiano? But why?”

“He sees us as a threat,” Kiril explains. “And since he can’t get to you so easily anymore, he thinks taking out this shipment would weaken our position significantly. It’s about all he can do right now, but he’s determined to stir up trouble in whatever way possible.”

I move closer to the desk, studying the map. It shows the Port of New York and New Jersey, with various markings scattered across it.

“These are the positions Damiano’s men plan to take,” Kiril says, pointing to red Xs. “Approximately thirty of them.”

I frown. “What are you going to do?”

A predatory smile curves Kiril’s lips. “We’re going to outsmart them.”

Misha chuckles. “Oh, yeah, this is gonna be fun.”

Kiril outlines their plan explaining how he intends to deploy a fake shipment to draw Damiano’s men out while the real weapons are moved via a boat bearing a commercial cannery’s logo. The owner owes Kiril a boatload of money, no pun intended, and he has graciously volunteered the vehicle. I doubt it’s all that gracious, and the plan is clever but dangerous.

“I don’t like it,” I say when he finishes. “What if something goes wrong?”

Anya raises an eyebrow. “Getting cold feet already?”

I bristle at her tone. “No. I’m just concerned.”

“Your concern is noted, but unnecessary. We know what we’re doing,” Kiril says.

I want to argue, but I bite my tongue. I’m new to this world. What do I know about planning covert operations? It just seems dangerous, and the idea of losing my husband makes my stomach clench. I shouldn’t be reacting so strongly to the idea considering the circumstances of our marriage, but yesterday showed me a different side of him, and I want a chance to know that one better before he gets himself killed.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” I ask instead.

Kiril studies me for a moment. “Actually, yes. We need someone to coordinate communications between our teams. Someone Damiano’s men won’t instantly recognize.”

“Me?” I ask, surprised.

He nods. “You’re quick and adaptable. I think you can handle it.”

I’m stunned but pleased at his confidence in me. “Okay. What do I need to do?”

For the next hour, they brief me on the operation. Misha shows me how to use their secure communication system, and Anya drills me on code words and protocols. Gradually, her subtle disdain seems to fade as I absorb it all like a sponge.

As we wrap up, Kiril’s phone buzzes. He checks it and frowns.

“Problem?” asks Anya.

“Possibly. I need to take this.” He steps out of the office, leaving me alone with Anya and Misha.

An awkward silence falls. I fidget with the tie of my robe, unsure what to say, and stunned to realize I still haven’t gotten dressed. I was too engrossed.

Misha breaks the tension. “So, Felicity, you like video games?”

I blink at the non sequitur. “Uh, yeah, actually. Why?”

He grins and holds up his tablet. “I’ve got the latest ‘Call of Duty’ on here. Wanna play?”

I laugh, grateful for the distraction. “Sure, why not, after I change clothes.” I dash back to my room, not seeing Kiril along the way, and throw on real clothes before returning. We settle onto the couch, and soon, we’re absorbed in the game. Misha trash-talks good-naturedly as we play, and I give as good as I get.

Anya watches us with amusement. “Children,” she mutters, but there’s no real bite to it. I suspect I’ve passed some unspoken test in her mind.

Kiril returns a few minutes later, his expression grim. “We have a problem. Our informant in Damiano’s organization has gone dark.”

Anya curses under her breath. “Do you think they’ve been compromised?”

“It’s possible,” says Kiril. “We need to assume our plan has been exposed.”

My stomach twists with anxiety. “What does that mean for the operation?”

Our gazes lock, and I see a flicker of approval at my question. “It means we need to adapt. Quickly.”

He turns to Misha. “I need you to get into Damiano’s systems. Find out what they know.”

Misha nods, all traces of playfulness gone as he immediately pauses the game and sets aside the controller to turn back to his laptop. “On it, boss.”

“Anya, contact our people at the port. Make sure they’re on high alert.”

“Consider it done,” she says, already pulling out her phone.

Kiril looks at me. “Felicity, I need you to memorize these new codes. If our original plan has been compromised, we’ll need to switch to Plan B on short notice.”

He hands me a sheet of paper covered in seemingly random words and phrases. I scan it, committing each one to memory.

As I study, I feel a mix of excitement and fear. This is real, dangerous and potentially deadly, but a small part of me thrills at being included and trusted with something so important.

I look up to find Kiril watching me, his expression unreadable. “I won’t let you down,” I say softly. Then I ask, “What’s Plan B?”

He gives me an assessing look. After a moment, he nods. “We’ll use the underground tunnels to move the shipment. It’s riskier, but Damiano won’t expect it.”

“Underground tunnels?” I ask, surprised.

“Remnants from Prohibition,” says Misha without looking up from his keyboard. “Pretty cool, right?”

I nod, trying to absorb this new information. “So, how does it work?”

Kiril spreads out a new map on the desk. “We’ll split the shipment into three parts. Each will take a different route through the tunnels, converging here.” He points to a spot near the docks.

“What about Damiano’s men?” I ask.

“That’s where you come in,” says Kiril. “You’ll be our coordinator, moving the teams from a safe location.”

My heart skips a beat. “Okay, I can do that, but... I want to be there. On-site.”

Kiril’s expression hardens. “Absolutely not.”

“Why not?” I ask. “I can handle it.”

“It’s too dangerous,” he says flatly.

“I’m already in danger. At least this way I can be useful.”

Anya and Misha exchange glances, clearly trying to stay out of our brewing argument.

Kiril’s jaw tightens. “You’re not trained for this kind of operation. You could get hurt or worse.”

“Then train me. I’m a quick learner, remember? You said so yourself.”

“This isn’t a game,” Kiril snaps. “These are hardened criminals we’re dealing with. They won’t hesitate to kill you, and that kind of training takes time.”

“I know that,” I say, my voice also rising, “But I’m not some helpless damsel. I can contribute more than just sitting in a safe room, relaying messages.”

He bares his teeth. “My decision is final. You’ll coordinate from here, where it’s safe.”

“Safe?” I laugh bitterly. “Nowhere is safe. Damiano’s already tried to kill me once. What’s to stop him from finding me here while you’re all out there?”

“We have security measures in place,” says Kiril, his tone clipped.

“And what if they fail? I’d rather be with you, where I know I’m protected.”

Kiril slams his hand on the desk, making me jump. “Enough. You’re staying here, and that’s final.”

I glare at him, anger bubbling up inside me. “You can’t order me around like one of your men. I’m your wife, remember? Or is that just for show?”

The room goes deathly quiet. Anya and Misha studiously avoid looking at either of us, suddenly very interested in their respective devices.

He glares, and for a moment, I think he might explode. Instead, he takes a deep breath, visibly calming himself. “You’re right,” he says softly. “You’re not one of my men. You’re my wife, and that means I have a responsibility to keep you safe.”

“I understand that,” I say, my own anger deflating slightly. “I have a responsibility too. To this family, and to myself. You brought me into this world, so you can’t expect me to just sit on the sidelines while everyone else risks their lives.”

Kiril studies me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Finally, he exhales raggedly. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

I shake my head, standing my ground. “No, I’m not.”

He rubs his forehead, looking suddenly tired. “Fine. We’ll compromise. You can be on-site, but you’ll stay in a secure vehicle with Viktor. You’ll coordinate from there, and under no circumstances are you to leave that vehicle. Understood?”

Relief and triumph surge through me. “Understood. Thank you, Kiril.”

He nods curtly. “Don’t make me regret this decision.”

“I won’t,” I promise. “I’ll do exactly as you say.”

He turns back to the map, effectively ending our discussion, and Anya and Misha visibly relax. “Misha, I need you to set up a secure comm system in one of the SUVs. Make sure it’s bulletproof.”

Misha nods, already tapping away at his tablet. “On it, boss.”

“Anya, brief Viktor on the change of plans. I doubt he needs the reminder, but make sure he understands the importance of keeping Felicity safe.”

“Of course,” Anya says, pulling out her phone.

I stand there uncertainly. This is really happening. I’m going to be part of a real mafia operation.

Kiril looks up at me, his expression softening slightly. He catches my arm gently. “Felicity,” he says quietly, so only I can hear. “I hope you understand why I was hesitant. It’s not because I don’t think you’re capable. It’s because I couldn’t bear it if something happened to you.”

His words send warmth spreading through my chest. I see the concern in his expression. “I understand, and I appreciate it, but I need to do this. For myself, and for us.”

He nods, releasing my arm. “You should try to rest for a bit, so you’re ready for the operation.”

As I head back to my room, my mind races with thoughts of what’s to come. I’m scared but also exhilarated. For the first time since this whole ordeal began, I feel like I’m taking control of my life in some small measure.