Fake Fiancé

Meeting of The Families

It's been a week and the tension hasn't lifted between Joe and Isabella. Joe couldn't decide what was more awkward; living with Isabella or working with her. They were constantly around each other and yet they hadn't gone back to normal.

Joe looked up when there was a knock on his door. "Isabella," he said, a little eager.

"Your father called," she said, barely looking at him. "He wants you to meet him for lunch."

"Just me?"

"Just you."

He started to thank her, but she was already back at her desk. He ran his fingers through his hair, wanting to go back. As much as that kiss meant to him, he wished he hadn't done it. He wished he could go back and do this all differently. He wished he could go back and get to know Isabella before he asked her to help him with this facade. He wished he could go back and stop himself from hurting Isabella.

* * * * *

"Joe, as you know, the Meeting is coming up."

"Yes, sir," he nodded.

"I want you to come with me," his father explained.

"Yes, sir."

"And I want you to invite Isabella."

"What?" Joe asked, suddenly awake.

"The Families need to see that you and Isabella are serious," his father explained. "They need to know that the two of you will take over our family and the organization."

"Father," Joe stuttered. "I don't think. . ."

"What?" His father cut off his nervous rambling.

"I'm not sure Isabella will be able to handle a meeting of the Families," I explained. "Especially after Monroe kidnapped her. She's still a little on edge from it all."

"Why?" His father scoffed making Joe clench his fists under the table.

"Because," Joe said through his teeth, "Victor kidnapped and tortured her for three days. I almost lost her when I told her the truth. The only reason I didn't was because I swore to her that she'd be safe. Walking into a dinner with the biggest mob families in town could scare her. I don't want to put her through that."

It didn't matter how much reasoning he gave his father, Joe couldn't convince him to allow Isabella to sit out of the Meeting. Now, he was on his way back to the office and he had to explain to Isabella what the Meeting was and that his father would like her present.

As he walked into the office, he kept trying to figure out how'd he explain the Meeting without scaring Isabella. There was no way. He knew it.

"Joe?"

He looked up, his breath getting caught in his throat when he stopped right in front of Isabella.

"Are you alright?" She asked.

"No," he mumbled. He cleared his throat before adding, "Can I talk to you?"

"Of course," Isabella shrugged. She let out a small surprised gasp as he grabbed her hand and led her into his office. He shut the door behind them and pulled her to the couch. They sat down, facing each other.

"Look, I've been trying to figure out how to word this the whole way over. There's no easy way around it so I'm just going to blurt it out."

"Okay," Isabella said slowly.

"Every year, there is a big meeting of all the families," Joe explained.

"The families?" Isabella stuttered. Her eyes widened when she realized what families Joe was talking about.

"Oh," she whispered. "Those families."

"Yeah," Joe sighed. "Those families."

"I have to say this," Isabella said, clearing her throat, "but that is insane. You're telling me once a year, the most powerful and dangerous crime families come together for dinner."

"I know," Joe said with a small chuckle. "It is insane. But all families have agreed to a momentary truce. For one day only, we don't shoot on sight."

Joe looked over at Isabella, expecting a laugh but he didn't even get a smile from her.

"It's perfectly safe," he added.

"Is it?" She challenged. "Because it doesn't sound like it is, Joe. I don't want. . . I don't think you should go."

"I have to go, Isabella," Joe sighed.

"But. . ."

"I'm Joseph Walten Jr, heir to the entire Walten Family Organization. I have to go. And my father wants you to come with me."

"What?" Isabella gasped. "You can't. . . You can't be serious. I can't go to this meeting. . . I'm not. . . We're not even. . . Oh dear."

"Isabella," Joe whispered as he scooted closer to her. "It's going to be okay. I promise. Nothing is going to happen to you."

"They're going to know," she whispered. "They'll know, Joe. They'll know we aren't really engaged. They'll know we're lying."

"They aren't going to figure it out," he tried to reassure her. "Believe me, Bella. These guys are morons. They won't figure it out, darling."

"They're going to kill me," she said under her breath.

"No," Joe said through his teeth. "They won't, Isabella. I swear on my life, they won't lay a single finger on you. They so much as look at you the wrong way, I'll end them."

* * * * *

As they drove to the restaurant, the car was full of tension. Joe was worried about Isabella and Isabella was worried about being in a room with the world's most dangerous families.

During the dinner, Joe noticed Isabella more on edge. She was jumping more and seemed more reserved. Joe had thought that putting Isabella between him and his mother would help her relax. He reached over and grabbed her hand, instantly intertwining their fingers.

He leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek before whispering in her ear, "I know this can be a little overwhelming. And scary. But I'm right here. Nothing is going to happen to you. I promise."