In "Mob Ties," delve into the clandestine world of organized crime where loyalty is everything, debts are paid in blood, and love blossoms amidst the chaos.
At just 24 years old, Aaliyah finds herself thrust into a world she never imagined - one whe...
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Lia fidgeted with the edge of her napkin, the weight of her impending wedding settling heavily in her stomach. Across the table, Mariah's reassuring presence offered some solace amidst the storm of nerves swirling inside her.
"This is gonna be so beautiful, and you picked the perfect gown," Mariah's voice was a beacon of warmth in the dimly lit restaurant.
Lia managed a faint smile, her mind already wandering to the uncharted territory of her honeymoon. "I'm so nervous, I didn't even write vows. I'm gonna skip out on them. I'm actually more nervous for the honeymoon."
Mariah, her fork hovering mid-air, paused to offer comfort. "I was too, but you don't have to do anything you don't want to."
Lia's brow furrowed, curiosity overshadowing her anxiety. "Wait, so what exactly are the requirements for arranged marriages?"
Mariah cast a cautious glance around the room before leaning in, her voice barely above a whisper. "Well, you have to be a part of the mob, meaning your father is a mobster. You must be groomed to cook and clean, be an honor roll student, and be a virgin to be married off and continue the tradition."
Lia's breath caught in her throat as the weight of expectation settled upon her shoulders. Memories of her mother's meticulous grooming and relentless pursuit of perfection flooded her mind.
"What about royalty? Are you gonna be okay with marrying her off?" Lia's voice trembled slightly, her concern for her friend mirroring her own fears.
Mariah's gaze softened, a weary resignation tugging at the corners of her lips. "I'm mentally preparing myself. It's tradition."
Lia waited patiently at the quaint bakery, the scent of freshly baked goods wafting through the air. It was just a week away from their wedding, and every detail felt like a delicate thread in the intricate tapestry of their future together.
East, however, was fashionably late, as usual. Lia couldn't suppress a sigh of frustration as he rushed in, his apology falling on deaf ears as the owner ushered them to begin the tasting.
"You must be the groom. I'll be back, and we can start off the tasting," the owner declared before disappearing into the kitchen.
"What took you so long? I told you we had to be here at 4:30," Lia's words were sharp, a reflection of the anxiety bubbling beneath the surface.
East's gaze flickered with guilt as he struggled to meet her gaze. He was still entangled in the remnants of his past, haunted by the specter of his ex-girlfriend. But he knew he had to let go and commit fully to Lia. He couldn't afford to jeopardize their future-or her safety.
"Sorry, had to handle business, which is paying for this wedding," he replied, his tone laced with defensiveness.
The baker arrived with an array of cake flavors, each one a tantalizing temptation. East's eyes lit up as he sampled the red velvet, a flavor he knew Lia adored.
