Page 33 of Mafia’s Dirty Secret

“That’s about enough of your smart mouth, Marie,” Ruby shouted as Marie laughed and walked away.

“I’m sure it is, Momma,” Marie shouted back. She would probably regret being smart with her mother. Her mother would find a way to make her pay, but she didn’t care. It was worth it to see her mother so uncertain and maybe even a little worried that she’d lost the upper hand.

Ruby had always been a calculating woman, and she’d used every weapon in her arsenal on Marie, and everyone else she came into contact with over the years. Now, Marie was turning the tables. Ruby would just have to get used to this new, confident daughter, whether she liked it or not.

Marie fed Ruby, gave her a bed bath, and then put the television on for her. The day was a little cooler, so she turned the AC down and made sure her mother had enough blankets on the bed. “I’m going to wash up the dishes, Mom. Call me if you need me.”

Ruby muttered something that Marie couldn’t hear, but Marie didn’t rise to the bait. She just left the room and went into the kitchen. She checked her phone and saw that Matteo had sent her a link to a high-end, very expensive looking, clothing shop.

“I’m in New Orleans and saw this dress in a shop window. What size and color do you want?” the next text said.

Marie blinked at the phone. There wasn’t even a price on the thing, just the possible sizes and colors.

“I would need a medium, I guess,” she wrote to him. “Red?”

“Red would be perfect. I’ll see you tonight. I’m taking you out. The dress will be delivered to your house.”

Marie touched her face, felt the cut on one side and the bruise on the other. She couldn’t go out in public with her face like this. Surely, he knew that?

19

The dress came in a delivery van marked with the store’s insignia. A large white box tied with a sapphire blue silk bow. Marie tugged at the bow and examined the material. It really was silk.

Alone in her bedroom, she gaped at the box, at the bow, and wondered how much Matteo had spent on the dress. Luxury oozed from every part of the gift box. Even the box itself was some thick cardboard that made her think of the word “cardstock”. She wasn’t quite sure what it meant but she must have read it somewhere, she decided.

After a few more breaths, she pulled the lid off the box and pushed blue tissue paper aside. It was a red silk dress, a wrap-around dress with a v-neck and silky, shiny satin around the edges. She pulled it from the box and found it had flirty cap sleeves and the hem came down to around mid-calf. Flirty, sexy, but still slightly demure. Like her, she thought as she held it up to her body and looked at herself in the mirror on the back of her bedroom door.

There was another box too, one that held a pair of black heels and lingerie far more beautiful than anything she owned. There was even a slip inside the box, pale pink and delicate. Everything she’d need for a night out.

She put the dress down, picked up her phone, and wrote a message.

“You can’t take me anywhere looking like I do right now.”

She deleted it and wrote another.

“You don’t want to take me out in public, I don’t know to put makeup on.”

That one didn’t sound right to her either, so she pressed the back button until it was gone.

“Are you sure you want to be seen in public with me?”

She didn’t feel too good about that one either, but it was the truth of the matter. She wasn’t sure Matteo would like the whispers or the looks that would follow if he took her out in this town. She hit send.

“A woman is coming at 7 to do your hair and makeup. If you don’t want the makeup that’s fine but let her do your hair at least. You’ll enjoy the experience, I promise.”

His text made her laugh, but it was an awkward laugh. Of course, he’d thought of everything. He always would, though, he was just that kind of man.

She took a shower, dried her hair, and by 7, she was at the kitchen table waiting for this mystery woman to show up. A knock at the door signaled that she was there, and Marie went to the door to let her in.

“Hi, I’m Amy. I’m here to get you ready for your date.”

“Marie! Marie, who’s here?” The question was more of a demand from her mother than an inquiry.

“It’s for me, Mom. Don’t worry.” Marie waited a moment, listened, but didn’t hear anything else.

“Come in, Amy. I’m Marie, obviously.” Marie led the black-haired woman with sharp blue eyes into the living room. “Where do you want to do this?”

Amy shut the door and looked around. “Is there more light in the kitchen?”