THE MAFIA’S MISTAKEN BRIDE

Jasmine’s POV

My aunt lives in the slum part of Chicago and I feel uncomfortable having Xavier with me on our way to see her.

Even though I feel safer with him beside me. I snuggle closer to him in the back seat of the car we hired. We have been silent since we got to the airport.

He keeps pressing kisses to my forehead and hair and it amazes me.

Even though Xavier still has not said the love word, I know I mean a lot to him. It just saddens me that he doesn’t know how to express his feelings vocally.

This should be enough. His actions ought to be enough but I am not satisfied. I want assurance. I want him to say the word. I want us to be free with each other. To be able to tell each other anything and everything. To be able to share secrets. To understand each other’s silence too.

I don’t regret loving him. I don’t regret telling him I loved him anymore too. I just want him to say it back to me.

“We should go out to a nice restaurant after you meet with your Aunt, what do you think?” His voice breaks into my thoughts, making me raise my head at him.

Is this another date?

Our first date was ruined because of me.

“Is this a date?” I ask with a smile and he shrugs indifferently, making me roll my eyes at him.

He is still aloof. He doesn’t know how to express himself.

What will it take to ask me directly to a date instead?This content provided by N(o)velDrama].[Org.

“The first date wasn’t up to my expectations…”, he pauses and I bite my lips in regret.

“I know I ruined it”, I shut my eyes. When I flutter it open, he is staring at me with a curious expression.

Just like I am thinking, he questions. “What happened that night?”

I just realized I never told him about Catherine’s call that day. A lot has happened. Everything happened so fast. From ruining the date to my kidnap and rescue.

“Catherine called me”, I mutter sitting away from him and looking out of the window.

It might take a while for us to get to understand each other deeply. It might take a while for us to sort out our differences. It might take a while for me to learn to trust him completely and it might take a while for us to accept each other the way we are.

But I am willing to wait.

“I thought as much”, he lets out a chuckle and I face him. “You were obviously mad and there to create a scene.”

“I didn’t create a scene”, I oppose, feigning annoyance. “We were alone.”

“The waiter saw us arguing”, he murmurs, looking straight ahead with a smirk. “I felt like a married man for once in my life. My wife was practically nagging me.”

My heart squeezes.

I don’t know if I am supposed to bark at him for calling me a nagging wife or give him a light peck on the lips for calling me his wife.

Now that I think of it, we are truly married.

Ours is a bit different from others. Most people fall in love, go on dates, court each other and get married.

But ours is different.

We got married first. Then we courted each other and fell in love before going on dates.

“So what did she tell you this time?” He asks, looking dead serious now, making me wonder why Catherine is so bent on ruining our relationship when it is obvious he doesn’t like her.

I shrug and say nothing.

“You are not going to tell me?”

I nod intermittently before moving back into his arms, snuggling and sniffling his cologne.

He laughs shortly. “You have to tell me, Jas. That bitch deserves…”

“Hey!” I cut him short.

He just called me JAS. That’s the exact name Joe used to call me at the restaurant where I used to work. I should visit them before leaving for New York.

Xavier raises his hand in surrender and I hug him back. We sit this way in silence until I summon up enough courage to speak up again.

“Xavier?” I call.

“Uhmm?” he responds.

“I’ve been thinking. I know this is not the right timing but I just want you to know so I can work towards it as soon as we get back home.”

At the sound of home, my heart tugs. It sounds perfect. Chicago is no longer my home. New York is.

“What’s that?” he demands quickly.

“I want to start working again. I’ve been too idle for too long and I can’t wait to get back to work.”

He remains silent.

I move away from his embrace so I can see his face properly. Because I said I want to work again doesn’t mean I will go back to the restaurant in Chicago. I don’t care what kind of work it is. I just want to do something.

“Not here in Chicago”, I mention so he can be rest assured I am not trying to leave again. “In New York. I don’t care what kind of work it is. I just need something to do. Can you help me?”

The fact that I have been living off him for four months is enough to make me feel guilty and think of working again.

I never had much but I have never been dependent on men. I learnt the hard way that men don’t give unless they want something in return. Which makes me work hard enough to be able to foot my bills and not be dependent on anyone.

Having to lose my parents at a young age also contributed. It was just me and my Aunt. As soon as I was able to put food on the table for us both, she became dependent on me. It felt good at first but after a while but when I had to drop out of school, it became a problem.

Even though we aren’t related, she is good to me and I don’t regret dropping out because of her. She was my mother’s friend and I used to call her Aunt right from time.

That was what she told me but now that I am about to question my paternity, I don’t know what to believe and what not to believe.

Xavier is still not saying anything so I tap him lightly on the shoulder.

“What would you like to do?” His gaze collided with mine, his eyes dark.

“Anything.”

“You can’t do anything. You are my wife!” He sounds possessive and I smile, reading meaning into what he just said.

He doesn’t want me to go back to being a cleaner. He doesn’t want me to do just any job.

I smile.

“I am a school dropout, I can’t do just any job. I want…”

I trail, feeling embarrassed. I hope this won’t change anything between us. I had to drop out because I could no longer afford my fees.

Without a word, he pulls me to him and we hug each other in silence. When I notice the driver watching, I look down with embarrassment.

“So you won’t tell me what Catherine said to you?” he demands, changing the topic.

“Nope.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want to”, I say with a mischievous smirk. He pretends to be annoyed and I peck his cheeks earning a low grunt from him.

I giggle as he throws me a lustful stare.

I can’t help the smile forming on my face. Before I can say or do anything, the driver interrupts. “We are here.”