The Reluctant Mafia Bride

Episode 12

Dahlia’s Point Of View

When I reached Liz’s apartment, I paused in front of the door for a moment, taking a second to collect myself. Liz had given me a spare key when she’d moved in, a small gesture that had meant so much to me. I slid the key into the lock, the familiar click of the door unlocking giving me a comforting sense of home.

As soon as I stepped inside, I was enveloped by the comforting scent of her apartment—the faint smell of candles, fresh flowers, and the cozy undertones of her favorite perfume. The place was immaculate, of course, but it wasn’t the pristine décor that made it feel like home. It was the way she made everything hers, how each corner seemed to reflect her personality—bright, inviting, and full of warmth.

When I stepped into Liz’s apartment, she was already there, practically glowing with excitement. Her wide grin was the first thing I noticed, her infectious energy filling the room. “I can’t wait for you to see the outfit I picked for you,” she said, her voice practically bubbling with enthusiasm. She turned to a nearby chair where the dress was hanging, and with a flourish, she held it up for me to see.

The dress was black, sleek, and impossibly chic, its fabric catching the soft glow of the living room lights. The cut was simple at first glance, but as my eyes drifted over it, I could see how daring it was—a plunging neckline that drew the eye down to the curve of the waist, and a slit running up the side just high enough to show off my legs in the most subtle yet seductive way. It was elegant yet edgy, and I could already tell I was going to love it. I smiled, knowing full well there was no way I’d be able to say no.

Liz draped it across the couch with the care of someone who knew exactly what they were doing. But as she stepped back, I let out a long, shaky breath, still feeling the weight of everything that had happened earlier that day. The tension from the strange events kept swirling in my chest like an unsettled storm.

Liz, ever perceptive, caught it immediately. Her eyes narrowed with concern as she turned to face me, a flicker of worry crossing her face. “Hey, what’s up?” she asked, her voice softer now. “You’ve been kind of quiet tonight. You okay?”

I hesitated, unsure of how to say the words. The weight of the whole situation was still heavy in my chest, but Liz was my best friend, and I knew I couldn’t keep this from her. Finally, I just let it spill out, my voice barely above a whisper. “It’s… it’s just been a weird weekend. I witnessed a murder.”

Liz’s eyes went wide with disbelief, and she gasped, stepping toward me with urgency. “What? How? When did it happen?”

I rubbed my temples, feeling the memory press against me like an unwanted weight. “It was Mr. Scott,” I said, the words tasting foreign as they left my mouth. “I had gone to his office to drop off a document, and his door was slightly open. When I peeked inside… I saw him. He was tied to a chair, beaten up, barely conscious.”

Liz’s mouth dropped open in shock. “I can't believe it,” she murmured, shaking her head as if trying to make sense of it all.

I kept going, the details spilling out as my mind replayed the scene. “There were three men in the room with him. The one in the middle, he was talking about how Mr. Scott had stolen from him. Then, without warning, he shot Mr. Scott… right in the head.”

Liz’s breath hitched, and she put a hand over her mouth in stunned silence. “Oh my God,” she whispered.

I could feel the tension in my shoulders knot tighter as I recalled the moment I realized they’d seen me. “I screamed when I saw it,” I continued, the panic still sharp in my memory. “They saw me, so I ran. I got in a cab and went straight to the police station to report it… but when I told the officer what I saw, he told me to forget it.”

Liz’s brow furrowed as she took a step closer, her voice barely audible. “What do you mean? Forget it?”

I took a deep breath, the words tasting bitter on my tongue. “The officer told me the man who killed Mr. Scott was Kirill Petrova.”

At the mention of the name, Liz’s eyes went wide, her shock palpable. “Kirill Petrova? No way. Are you sure?”

I nodded, the fear creeping back into my chest. “Yeah. And then—this is the part that’s really messing with me—he sent me a text. Tonight. Just saying ‘ Hello Malyshka,’ like nothing happened. Like he wasn’t a killer.”

Liz’s face softened, her expression shifting from disbelief to concern. Without a word, she stepped toward me, pulling me into a tight hug. Her arms were warm and reassuring, and for a moment, I let myself lean into her, absorbing the comfort she always seemed to offer when the world felt too heavy.

“Oh, Dahlia,” she murmured, her voice soothing in my ear. “You don’t have to be scared. Nothing’s going to happen to you. You’ve got me, okay? We’ll figure this out. I promise.”

Her words, though simple, wrapped around me like a lifeline, and for the first time since all of this started, I felt a little less alone. The fear didn’t disappear, but with Liz by my side, it seemed a little more bearable.

I held onto Liz for a moment longer, allowing myself to lean into the comfort of her embrace. The warmth of her arms, the soft sound of her breathing, it all felt like a balm against the chaos of the day. But I knew she was right. I couldn't let this fear control me.

"Thanks, Liz," I murmured, pulling back just enough to meet her gaze. "I know. I just... I’ll be fine. Really. Maybe getting out tonight will help me take my mind off things."

Liz studied my face for a beat, her eyes soft with concern. “Are you sure? We don’t have to go if you're not up for it. We can always just stay in, order takeout, and watch something cheesy.”

I gave her a small, but genuine smile, the offer tempting, but I could already feel the weight of the day pressing in again. “No, I’m good,” I said, shaking my head. “Let’s go. It’ll be good to get out of my head for a little while, you know?”

Liz’s face lit up, the energy between us shifting. “Okay, good. I promise you’ll have a blast,” she said, giving me an encouraging wink.

With that, we finished getting dressed, moving around the apartment in a comfortable, practiced rhythm. Liz flitted around me, making small adjustments to the dress—tightening a strap here, smoothing out the fabric there—always with an eye for perfection. She was meticulous, but it was part of why I loved her. She made sure I felt special, no matter what.

When she finished, she stepped back and looked at me, her eyes glinting with pride. “There,” she said with a satisfied grin. “Now you’re ready.”

I turned toward the mirror, my breath catching in my throat. I barely recognized the woman staring back at me. The woman in the mirror was confident, poised—someone who seemed to have it all together. It was almost surreal. The dress fit like it was made just for me, hugging my curves in all the right places. The way the neckline dipped and the slit cut just high enough to reveal a flash of skin made me feel bold and powerful in a way I hadn’t felt in a long time.

For the first time in ages, I felt a little lighter, like maybe I could leave the weight of the day behind, if only for a few hours. A small, relieved breath escaped me.

“You look amazing,” Liz said, her voice full of admiration as she stepped up beside me. “See? I told you it was the perfect choice.”

I gave her a look in the mirror, my smile growing a bit more genuine this time. “Thanks, Liz. I actually feel pretty good in this.”

She nodded, her grin widening. “That’s what I like to hear. Now, let’s go show the world how fabulous we are.”

We made our way to Liz’s car, the cool night air brushing against my skin as we stepped out onto the sidewalk. The city around us buzzed with life, as it always did, but tonight there was a certain magic to it. Liz slid into the driver’s seat, the engine humming to life as we pulled away from the curb, the world around us unfolding in vibrant color.