Page 12 of Mafia’s Fake Bride

Matteo didn’t want to think about it too much, but it was more than gambling that would go on in that ice cream parlor. Those machines would dispense far more than coins for his clients, but he wasn’t ready to talk to anyone about that yet.

“Have a seat. Would you like a drink?” Matteo waved at the bartender and then at a chair as the wide man sat down. He wasn’t a very tall man, but he was… wide.

Randall plunged a hand with thick fingers through stringy black hair and looked at the stage. “Now that’s a sight worth waking up early for. Nicky sure is a fine woman.”

Matteo attempted to hide the sneer that threatened to mar his features. A man that knew the names of the dancers on the stage was very sad, in Matteo’s opinion. Surely, a man in Randall’s position would have better things to do than hang around strip clubs.

“I’m sure she is.” Matteo paused while Randall asked the bartender for a beer. “Now, I’d like to get right down to business…”

“Wait a minute, wait a minute. Let me watch the end of Nicky’s show.”

Matteo closed his mouth and turned his face away so the sad little man wouldn’t see the way he rolled his eyes. He’d much rather be at home, dreaming about Marie and their wedding night, but business came first. He’d dream about her later.

7

Marie took the tea-length silk dress from the hanger on her closet door and pulled the side zipper down. With a deep breath, she stepped into the dress before she pulled it up over her body. She’d found it in a second-hand shop in New Orleans; the perfect dress for the perfect sham wedding.

It was all arranged and today was the day. They’d go to the courthouse for a short ceremony, and then they’d be on their way. There wasn’t really even a reason she should wear the dress, other than it was her first wedding. She looked in the mirror as she pulled the side zipper up and the material stretched snugly across her breasts.

The silk hid the new underwear she’d bought, all white lace and pure. A sham, really, but it was tradition, right? Marie sat down on the bed to pull up white stockings and to slide on the white stiletto heels she’d bought to go with the dress.

It wasn’t an overly fancy dress at all. The neckline was square, with two wide shoulder straps to hold the bodice up. It fit snugly down her torso before it flared out at her hips, all the way down to her calves. A crinoline beneath puffed the skirt out and made it… pretty. That was the word she thought as she glanced in the mirror.

She’d twisted her hair up into a French twist at the back of her head, and put on a small pillbox hat with a short net for a veil. She looked like the perfect 1950s bride. Perhaps an odd choice, but that was kind of how she felt. Trapped in a world of beauty, manners, and old-fashioned expectations. But… pretty.

An arranged marriage was nothing more than that, wasn’t it? A pretty sham of what should be. A prison that a woman with no money of her own could not escape.

Would they still have the passion, though? She wondered about that as she applied a light layer of makeup to her face, just enough to highlight the features the woman at the shop had taught her. Would he still want her in his bed?

Uncertainty filled her as she got up from the bed. Did she want Matteo to touch her, to have sex with her? Or did she want to be left alone to fully encase her heart in ice in peace? She’d thought about it for two weeks now but there was still no answer. She simply didn’t know what she wanted.

She’d simply done what she needed to do to get through the dreadful days and the tormenting nights. She’d wanted so much from Matteo, but it wasn’t really that much. Not really. She’d wanted his love, nothing more. She didn’t care about money, or about the things he could give her. All she wanted was to matter, to love him, and be loved in return.

Instead, she was going to be his property for all intents and purposes. Something he’d bought and that hurt her deeply. The burning ache of that hurt made her want to run, to just take his credit card and run as far as she could before he reported the card stolen. Honesty was something that came naturally to her, however, and the thought of lying to Matteo hurt almost more than this forced marriage did.

Even if he had lied to her.

With one last glance behind her, Marie left her childhood home, now empty of the possessions she wanted to take with her and placed in a bedroom at Matteo’s. She would have her own bedroom, she suspected that was because he knew she would need her own space.

The wedding itself was a blur, words were spoken, papers signed, and before she knew it, they were being congratulated by three people she didn’t even know. They’d needed two witnesses and those had been chosen from the staff at the courthouse. Not the wedding Marie might have envisioned, nothing like it at all, but it was done, and she was now Matteo’s wife.

She glanced over at him as they walked out of the courthouse and felt her heart lurch in her chest. She still loved him, then. Her heart couldn’t help but love him, even if her head screamed that she was insane and shouldn’t love, or trust, him.

He was dressed tastefully, in a tailored dark blue suit with a white shirt and a silky pink tie that he must have chosen for the wedding. His hair was cut perfectly, just long enough to run her fingers through, something they ached to do, but she held herself back. He’d tricked her, used her, and now he’d forced her to marry him.

And for what? To protect her from his miserable aunt’s schemes as he’d said?

That didn’t make any sense. If he’d been sent down here to humiliate and ruin Ruby even further, why try to protect her? Did he care about her? Was that it?

He’d said as much, but she hadn’t believed him. There must be some ulterior motive here, other than love. Maybe he’d married her because his aunt had chosen a mate for him and he didn’t like the woman? If he was that under her thumb then it might be possible. But then, by marrying her he was defying her, so maybe not?

It was all too confusing and too much to think about right now, so she focused on the bright sky. There were a few clouds up there, but other than that, it was a clear day, lovely for a wedding really.

“I’ll meet you at the house, shall I?” His voice broke into her thoughts and she turned to him, a blank look on her face.

“Of course, if that’s what you wish.” She wouldn’t argue, she didn’t have the strength to, not really.

“Be careful.” He leaned in, brushed a tender kiss along her cheek, and left to get into his car.