Arranged Mafia Marriage

Chapter 37Felicity

37

Felicity

W hen the day of the recital arrives, and I’m a bundle of nerves. I’ve managed to keep it from Kiril by claiming I needed to work late at the studio all week. As I adjust my simple black dress, I hear familiar footsteps behind me.

“You look beautiful, darling,” Kiril says, wrapping his arms around me. “Are you ready for your big night?”

I turn in his embrace, steeling myself. “Actually, there’s something I need to tell you.”

Kiril’s eyes narrow. “What is it?”

I inhale and then exhale, steeling myself for Kiril’s reaction. “I’ve organized a charity dance recital, and I’ve invited Sean O’Malley and his daughter Siobhan to attend.” Maybe I should have told him sooner, but I was afraid he’d refuse to participate with so many possible witnesses.

Kiril’s eyes widen, then narrow. “You did what?”

“I know it sounds crazy but hear me out. This is our chance to bring everyone together on neutral ground. No weapons, no violence, just a night of dance and goodwill.”

Kiril runs a hand through his hair, his jaw clenching. “Do you realize how dangerous this is? Having all three families in one place?” He scowls. “You were supposed to be arranging a meeting with just him.”

“A meeting he’d quickly get wise to and probably bail on before you and Damiano could get around to suggesting peace. No, it has to be something public, where he feels more secure, and where he can see all the kids, from each of the families, interacting together. Let the kids lead the adults, so to speak.”

He looks unconvinced. “I didn’t expect an audience when we approached him. If things turn ugly…” He sighs. “I’m not sure being so public will work.”

I place my hand on his arm. “That’s exactly why it could work. We’re all too smart to try anything in such a public setting. Plus, it gives us a chance to talk without the pressure of a formal meeting.”

He sighs, shaking his head. “You should have told me sooner.”

“I know. I’m sorry, but I truly believe this could be a turning point for all of us.”

Kiril stares at me for a long moment, then nods. “Very well, but we’ll need extra security, and I want Viktor with us at all times.”

I smile, relief washing over me. “Of course. Thank you for trusting me.”

He pulls me close, kissing my forehead. “I always trust you, but we are going to have a deep discussion about your secrets later, wife. Perhaps your ass will need some convincing from my hand.”

My eyes widen, and though my stomach clenches, the idea of him spanking me is surprisingly sexy.

He gives me a knowing look. “You’ll have to wait for that. Let’s get ready for this recital of yours.”

When we arrive a short time later, the dance studio is transformed for the evening. Soft lighting casts a warm glow over the polished floors, and elegant floral arrangements adorn every corner. I smooth down my dress, nervousness fluttering in my stomach as I greet the arriving guests.

Damiano arrives first, warily scrutinizing the room. “Quite the setup you’ve got here.”

I offer him a small smile. “Thank you. I’m glad you could make it.”

He nods, his gaze softening slightly as he glances at Isabella, who is offstage helping Tony adjust his tights. “Isabella and Tony are excited about the performance.”

Before I can respond, the door opens again, and Sean O’Malley strides in, Siobhan at his side. The girl’s eyes light up when she sees me.

“Ms. Morris, you look so pretty.”

I smile, not having to crouch to her level since she’s only a couple of inches shorter than me. When she finishes growing, she’s going to be tall and elegant, the perfect dancer’s body if she can convince her father to let her pursue that dream. “Thank you, Siobhan. You look beautiful too. Are you ready for your big performance?”

She nods enthusiastically, then tugs on her father’s sleeve. “Daddy, you remember Ms. Morris?”

Sean’s piercing green gaze locks onto mine as he extends his hand. “How could I forget?” He smiles at me as his daughter darts backstage to join the cast. “Siobhan hasn’t stopped talking about your classes.”

I shake his hand, keeping my voice steady. “It’s good to see you again, Mr. O’Malley. Siobhan is a delightful student.”

As more guests file in, I feel Kiril’s presence at my back. His hand rests lightly on my waist, a subtle show of support and possession.

“Sean,” says Kiril, his voice cool but polite. “I’m glad you could make it.”

Sean’s eyebrows raise slightly. “Kiril. I didn’t realize you had an interest in ballet.”

“My wife has many talents,” he says smoothly. “Supporting the arts is important to us both.”

I watch as understanding dawns in Sean’s eyes. He glances between Kiril and me, then at Damiano standing nearby, gaze glued on Tony and Isabella, which Sean seems to note. “I see. Ms. Morris is actually Mrs. Pimaslov and Miss DeLucci.” He scowls for a moment. “This should be an interesting evening.”

The energy in the air is nearly unbearable as the three men size each other up. I clear my throat, drawing their attention. “Gentlemen, why don’t we move to the refreshment area? The performance will be starting soon.”

As we make our way across the room, I catch snippets of conversation from the other guests, a blend of dance parents, local business owners, and carefully selected members of each family. So far, everything seems calm, but there’s an undercurrent of watchfulness from all sides. The only ones not present are the men’s bodyguards, who are all in the foyer or their cars. It’s just the three of them, vulnerable, aware of all the children, and hopefully, open to reason.

I lead the men to a quieter corner, away from prying ears. “I know this is unexpected, but I hope we can use this opportunity to talk. Without the usual pressures.”

Sean chuckles, though he doesn’t seem fully amused. “You’ve got guts, lass. I’ll give you that.”

The lights dim as the recital begins. I sit between Kiril and Damiano, hyper-aware of Sean O’Malley’s presence just a few seats away. The tension in the air is thick enough to cut with a knife.

As the first notes of music fill the air, Siobhan gracefully takes the stage. Her hair is pulled back in a neat bun, and her green leotard sparkles under the stage lights. She moves with surprising grace for her age, her movements fluid and precise.

I glance at Sean, seeing the pride in his eyes as he watches his daughter perform. For a moment, he’s not a feared mob boss, but simply a father.

The music shifts, and Tony skips onto the stage, his angelic face beaming with excitement. He’s dressed as a little prince, complete with a tiny crown perched atop his curls. As he begins his simple routine, I hear Damiano inhale sharply beside me.

“He seems to have a gift,” I whisper, leaning close.

Damiano nods, his gaze never leaving Tony. “He does,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. He doesn’t appear to be bothered by his son dancing ballet, which fills me with a different kind of hope for the kids’ futures.

As the children dance, the three men around me slowly relax. Their faces soften, the hard lines of tension easing away. By the time the final dancer gives a final bow before the curtain drops, there’s a noticeable shift in the atmosphere.

We stand to applaud, and I seize the moment. “Gentlemen, perhaps we could step into the office for a moment?”

They exchange glances, then nod in agreement. I lead them to a small room off the main studio, closing the door behind us.

“What do you think?” I ask, gesturing to the chairs arranged in a loose circle.

Sean is the first to speak. “Your son’s got talent, Damiano,” he says with confidence, revealing he’s either guessed or confirmed Damiano has been hiding a secret family.

Damiano flinches for a moment but nods. He does, and your daughter is talented.”

“Aye, she’s something else, isn’t she?” Sean beams with pride.

Damiano nods. “They both performed beautifully. It’s... nice to see them together like this.” He sounds a little pained, and it’s clear he’d planned to keep Tony and Isabella’s existence a secret as long as possible, but now O’Malley knows he has something important on the line too.

Kiril remains silent, gaze moving between the other two men.

“I hope our child will dance with them someday in the near future,” I say, meeting my husband’s gaze before looking at Damiano and Sean, reminding them we also have a stake in a peaceful future.

Damiano nods, and Sean grunts. I take a deep breath to calm myself. “I know there’s a lot of history and bad blood between your…organizations, but tonight, we saw something different. We saw our children, innocent and full of joy, sharing a stage. Don’t they deserve a chance to grow up without the constant threat of violence?”

The men shift uncomfortably, but I press on. “I’m not na?ve. I know peace won’t come easily, but surely we can start with small steps. A ceasefire, perhaps? A chance to discuss territories and business without resorting to bloodshed?”

Sean strokes his beard thoughtfully. “It’s not a bad idea, lass. We’ve all lost good men in this feud. Maybe it’s time for a change.”

Damiano nods slowly. “I agree. The constant fighting is bad for business. If we could find a way to work together...”

Kiril finally speaks, his voice low and measured. “It won’t be easy. There’s too much history, too many grudges, but for the sake of our families, it might be worth trying.”

I hold my breath, hardly daring to hope. “So, you’re willing to talk? To at least consider the possibility of peace?” I already know Damiano and Kiril are, but they seem to be playing the angle that they’ve been totally ambushed too. I’m okay with being the bad guy in this scenario if it gets O’Malley to open his mind.

The three men exchange glances. Finally, Sean nods. “Aye, we’ll talk. No promises beyond that, mind you, but we’ll sit down and see what can be done.”

Relief makes me smile. It’s not a guarantee, but it’s a start. “Thank you.”

As we prepare to rejoin the reception, Kiril pulls me aside. “You’ve done well,” he mutters, his lips brushing my ear. “But remember, this world is still dangerous. Stay alert.” He slaps me on the ass and gives me a meaningful glance as I slip past him. “And remember the price of your ‘surprise’ later.”

I nod, squeezing his hand as my panties get damp. “I will, but let’s just enjoy the moment.”

We step back into the main room, where the children are being congratulated by their proud parents. Siobhan runs up to Sean, her face flushed with excitement. “Did you see me, Papa? Did you like it?”

Sean scoops her up, his booming laugh filling the room. “You were amazing, my little dancer. The best one up there.”

Across the room, I see Damiano kneeling next to Tony, who’s animatedly describing his performance. Isabella stands nearby, her eyes shining with unshed tears as she watches father and son interact.

As I survey the scene, I realize that for this brief moment, we’ve achieved something remarkable. The most powerful and dangerous men in New York are gathered in one room, not as rivals, but as fathers and uncles, bound by the simple joy of watching children dance.

It’s a fragile peace, I know. Tomorrow, the harsh realities of their world will reassert themselves, but for now, in this moment, there’s hope, and sometimes, hope is all we need to start changing the world.