Chapter 4 Rings

Mia POV The officiant's suspicious gaze darted between us, the unspoken question hanging heavy in the air, but he didn't say anything. "Besides," I continued, my voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "diamond ring or not, I'm willing to marry you." I pretended to eye Albert's hand. "I think I got the right sizes, too. Your hands always look so much bigger in person..." The officiant's lips twitched in what might have been a smile, and the tension eased a touch. To my surprise, the cheap ring fit perfectly on his finger. Albert slipped mine onto my hand. The officiant declared us husband and wife, his voice heavy with a formality that felt utterly absurd in our situation. "You may now kiss the bride." Albert's lips met mine before I could even blink. The contact was unexpected, a spark that sent a jolt through me. My mind reeled, momentarily thrown off balance. I pulled away quickly, a touch of breathlessness lingering in my chest. Albert's gaze lingered on me, filled with something I couldn't name before twining our fingers together and leading me away from the officiant. A while later, marriage certificate in hand, we exited the sterile building and stepped back into the vibrant chaos of the city. Albert chuckled. "You have quite the acting skills. They'll serve you." "Survival skills, more like it," I countered with a wry smile. "Growing up in a city like this with a sick mother has a way of teaching you to think and act quickly." My phone buzzed in my purse, and the caller ID flashed Katie's name. Relief washed over me as I answered. "Everything go smoothly?" she asked, her voice laced with anticipation. "Surprisingly," I admitted. "They even squeezed us in for the ceremony today." A beat of surprised silence followed. "Did you take any photos?" "Photos?" I echoed, mentally kicking myself. Of course, photos. "Yes? You'll need it for the green card application!" She said. "Cohabitation proof and all that." I winced at the thought and looked up at Albert. "Do we need all that stuff?" I asked, a knot of worry tightening in my stomach. Albert pondered for a moment; his brow furrowed in thought. "Indeed," he finally said, "we should make this… believable." I thought back to my tiny little apartment and cringed. He definitely couldn't move in with me, but what was the other option? My mind raced. Renting a whole apartment just to prove cohabitation? The extra expense was daunting. And wedding photos? Another cost I wasn't sure Albert would be willing to cover, especially after paying me and likely forking over a hefty sum to Ivan for the whole arrangement. Just as I was about to voice my concerns, Albert surprised me. "We could have a formal wedding later," he suggested, a hint of amusement in his voice. "And," he added before I could interject, "you could move in with me. Rent-free, of course." My jaw nearly hit the floor. Move in with him? The idea sent a wave of apprehension crashing over me. He saw my surprise and offered a lopsided smile. "We are newlyweds, are we not?" he said, his voice smooth as silk. "Living together would be… more convincing, wouldn't you agree? And necessary given the application…" The logic was sound and unsettling. He was right, of course. With a sigh, I nodded in agreement. "I have a shift tonight," I said. “Maybe I can pack a bag or two and come over after work?" He shook his head. "No need to worry about that. Just give me the address, and I'll send movers to take care of everything this evening." The fluorescent lights of the diner buzzed overhead, casting a sterile glow on the mismatched booths and worn linoleum floor. I hated this place, but it had allowed me to survive all this time. The money from the fake marriage would make sure mom got her surgery, and eventually, it would dig me out of debt. In two weeks, my job as a nurse would start, and I'd be making enough to cover our living expenses. My boss, a portly man named Gus, greeted me with a surprisingly chipper demeanor. "Hey, Mia! Heard you might be putting in your notice after tonight?" I forced a smile. "Yeah, I figured it was time to move on. Got some family stuff I need to take care of, and the nights are starting to wear on me." Leaving out the whole fake marriage part seemed prudent. Gus nodded. "Makes sense. Heard things have been changing around here lately. New guys took over a few territories, seems like." He lowered his voice conspiratorially. "Less protection money, more business flowing in. Good for everyone, right?" Relief washed over me. Less trouble from the previous Verdi mafia meant fewer drunken brawls and belligerent customers. But the reprieve was short-lived. When I greeted my first table of the tonight, the diner door swung open, and a familiar figure swaggered in, throwing a shadow that stretched across the checkered floor. It was Marco, a mid-level member of the Verdi mafia, or a Capo as they liked to call themselves. Marco was easily my most troublesome customer. Always trying to intimidate, threaten, and otherwise coerce me. Tonight, he was already drunk when he came in. Great. That was exactly what I needed. He didn't even bother taking a seat, his gaze landing on me like a predator eyeing its prey. "Mia," he slurred, his voice thick with intoxication. He never ordered food. The purpose of his visits was always something far more predatory. I kept my distance with a plain smile. “It’s a pretty open floor tonight, Marco–” He swayed closer, and I backed up. "Heard you're in a bit of a bind, sweetheart," he leered. "Need some extra cash, maybe?" How had he heard about that? “I could give you a bit for the right price…” My stomach churned with nausea. I grabbed a set of menus and ducked back behind the counter to make sure there was plenty of space between us, even as Gus disappeared, and I knew no one on the floor would help me. "Appreciate the offer, Marco, but I'm good." My voice was polite but firm, leaving no room for negotiation. He wasn't finished, though. He lunged across the counter. His hand shot out, aiming at my chest. I dodged back, but before I could react, a figure materialized behind him, and a hand clamped down on his wrist. "Don't touch her," a voice growled, a voice that sent shivers down my spine. I looked up and saw Albert, his face a mask of icy fury. My head snapped towards him, about to tell him not to be reckless. Didn't he understand the hornet's nest he was poking? Didn't he know this was a mafia town, and getting in the way of a capo was a quick way to end up hurt or dead? He hadn’t even paid me yet! Marco swung around with a drunken snarl. "Who the fuck are you? You know who I…” Marco looked back and forth at Albert and somewhere behind him. The drunken swagger melted away, replaced by a look of pure terror. He sputtered; his voice unrecognizable from the bravado of moments before. He wasn't going to finish that sentence. His eyes darted between Albert and me, fear twisting his features. What was going on here? Why was a mid-level mafia thug suddenly cowering in front of a complete stranger?