ELEVEN
Lucy
"How does marrying you help me?" I still don't understand why he's so gung-ho about spending the rest of his life with me. Unless he doesn't expect it will be for long.
We pull up to the gates, and the attendant on duty makes us pop the back. The guard opens the doors, and satisfied that it's just the two of us, he grants us entrance inside.
Nikita hasn't answered my question. He parks the van out front, not caring about hiding the vehicle. I suppose the mafia knows this is where the bratva live.
Climbing out of the passenger side, I follow Nikita inside through the front entrance. I want to see my son. I need to know that Zion is safe. He leads me upstairs to the playroom, where Madisyn and Hannah sit on a sofa against the wall. The kids are playing, oblivious to the danger just outside the walls of the building.
Zion is safe.
I exhale a sigh that I hadn't realized I'd been holding when he runs into my arms, gripping me as if his life depends on it. "How was your playdate?" I ask, bending down and bringing him into my arms. He's big, almost too big for me to carry, but he still loves it, and right now, I want to know that he's safe.
Just seeing him isn't enough. He's my child. I must protect him.
"Fun," Zion says. "We got to have ice cream sandwiches!"
"Oh, you did?" I laugh at his wide-eyed grin. The kid must still be on a sugar high. He wiggles his way out of my grasp, and I put his feet firmly back down on the floor.
"I hope that was okay, to give him ice cream," Hannah says. "I wanted a snack, and he saw what I was eating."
"It's fine. Thank you both for watching him." I stumble forward, falling onto the sofa in a heap, sitting beside the two young women. They seem to have it all together. Me? I'm a complete mess.
Am I going to marry Nikita?
I need to keep Zion safe, and I can't fathom another plan that will work. I hope that the mafia will leave us alone once I become part of the bratva.
"First thing tomorrow, we're going to the courthouse and getting married."
"Isn't there a waiting period?" I ask. It's not that I'm not willing to marry Nikita. I'm just not sure it's as good a plan as he thinks it is.
"Yes, but it's only twenty-four hours, and the judge is willing to waive the waiting period."
"You know the judge?" I shouldn't be surprised, considering the depth and reach that the bratva has over the city, but it's still a shock, nevertheless.
"Who don't we know?" Nikita says with a wry smirk. He glances me up and down. "But we have to make this wedding convincing, like we're madly in love."
I'm not much of an actress, but I doubt it will be too difficult to pretend that I like Nikita. He's handsome, and just imagining that I get to bed him and see what's beneath his clothes puts a grin on my face. "I'll do my best."
Although, we haven't discussed sleeping arrangements, let alone other factors.
Will he expect me to sleep with him once we're married? I press my lips tight together but don't voice my question, not in front of Hannah and Madisyn, let alone my son. Some things should be discussed in private.
"Wait, you two are getting married?" Hannah's jaw drops as she tries to wrap her head around our discussion.
Nikita gives a firm nod. "She's in danger until she's part of the bratva. The Italians aren't backing down."
"And you've tried arranging a meeting with the Italians?" Madisyn asks. She glances from Nikita to me. Her brow is furrowed, and her bottom lip pouts.
Either Madisyn doesn't like me, or she doesn't want me to join the family. I can't get a solid read on her, but she's not welcoming me into the family with open arms.
"Otello is the kid's biological kin." Nikita nods toward Zion.
I appreciate his discreetness. It's not a conversation I want in front of Zion.
"What does that mean?" Zion asks.
Nothing gets by my son. I rub his back and gesture for him to play with Kira and Bay. "I'll explain when you get older."
Zion rolls his eyes and exhales a breathy sigh as he joins the girls in playing with their toys. "I swear the kid is already a teenager." I'm not sure that I'll be ready when those years come.
Nikita is trying to hide a smile on his face. He clears his throat, and the tough-guy approach returns, the smile gone. "Until Otello is dead, Lucy and her family are under our protection."
"You're planning on killing him?" I ask, and my voice catches in my throat. I hadn't wanted the man executed, but I do want him to leave us alone.
Is that what it will take to feel safe?
I'm no murderer, and I don't intend to marry one, either. "You can't kill him," I say before Nikita has time to answer.
"I won't need to if we're wed," Nikita says. "Antonio respects the truce between our feuding families. Once you're part of the bratva, you will be protected."
"And my debt to the Italians?" I ask. "They own me."
"Not anymore." Nikita strides toward me, closing the gap between us. His hand comes up, pushing a stray lock of hair behind my ear. "The Italians will never touch you again. You will work for us, and they know better than to start a war with the bratva."
"Work for you at the club?" I ask. Is the club even still around? Besides, that hadn't gone well when his employee insisted that I dance. I'd never seen the jealous and possessive side of Nikita before. Dare I say I liked when his attention was on me.
Is that what marrying him will be like?
Nikita glances me over and then at the girls. "My bride will need a dress for tomorrow. What do you girls have that she can borrow?"
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